


It's Not a Fairytale

by purple_angel



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Cousin Incest, Dubious Morality, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 60,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8701267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_angel/pseuds/purple_angel
Summary: Jon Snow's true parentage is revealed during a time of chaos and while Robert Baratheon is still alive, forcing Ned Stark to come up with a plan in order to keep Jon and the rest of his family safe from the King's wrath.





	1. The Agreement

**Sansa**

Sansa was staring uncertainly at Jon as he kept pacing the room like a possessed man. She knew this wasn’t ideal. In fact it was far from ideal and if she was honest with herself, it was something that under any different circumstances, she never would have agreed to. The very idea of her and Jon made her skin crawl. Or at least it used to a lot more before she actually knew about who he really was. She had spent years thinking of Jon as her half-brother and keeping him at a distance and one would think that she’d still feel the same way. Jon Snow for his part certainly thought so. However, putting feelings aside, Sansa was willing to do what had been asked of her because she knew her father was right and this was the best way to keep her family safe. And yes, perhaps this concerned more Jon than it did the rest of them, but she was not that naive to believe they would be spared. Besides, she would never forgive herself, if she knew she could have done something to help him and just stood by and watched.

Even though she didn’t share the bond her other siblings shared with Jon, she still cared for him. Maybe not as deeply as she cared for Robb, Bran, Rickon or even Arya, but still; she had always wanted what was best for him. Before she learned the truth about his parentage, of course, that had meant something entirely different for her. Jon had never had a place in her future and they had been both aware of the fact and somehow that had made her feel a little less guilty about not trying to form a real connection with him. She had always known that their paths would eventually be completely different and that once she got betrothed, she would never see him again.

All she had ever dreamed of in the past had been to marry a noble lord in the South and become a lady in her own castle and for a while, after King Robert had sent ravens to all the important houses, informing them that he was looking for a bride for Prince Joffrey to be betrothed to, she had even dreamed of being Queen one day, standing by her handsome King’s side. Her dreams, however, had soon been replaced with disappointment when the King had chosen a Tyrell for his son to marry and then, as fate would have it, with utter relief when Jon Arryn, who was the Hand of the King, had revealed that both Princes, along with Princess Myrcella, were nothing but the product of the incestuous relationship between Cersei Lannister and her twin brother, Jaimie.

It was really funny how fate worked and Sansa did not fail to see the irony in the fact that the prince she had once been dreaming of marrying was a bastard and Jon Snow, whom she had always associated the word bastard with, was the real prince she would marry. Because not only was Jon not a bastard, but if the Targaryens hadn’t fallen, he would have grown up as a potential heir to the Iron Throne and a prince, with him being the trueborn son of Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark, her lord father’s sister and her aunt.

The truth about Jon had been revealed soon after the scandal about the Lannisters had seen the light and after both Stags and Lions had raised their banners for war. Besides her father’s best efforts to keep Jon’s parentage a secret all these years, someone had somehow figured out the truth and had decided to immerse the Kingdoms into more chaos by revealing it, forcing her father to finally admit it to the family and confess of the promise he had made to his sister to protect her son and of his decision to pass him as his own. Which had proven to be a wise one, if Robert Baratheon’s fury was anything to go by. Now, all of Westeros seemed to be at war and everyone had turned against one another with no exceptions. Not even that of the North.

The Northerners had hated the Targaryens for a long time to take the truth about Jon well. In their minds Prince Rhaegar had been a monster just like his father the Mad King, who had killed both her uncle and grandfather in the most gruesome way. They had always shared the belief with the rest of Westeros that Lyanna had been taken against her will and had been raped and now they were seeing Jon to be worse than just a bastard and considered her father a traitor to his family and the North and a Targaryen sympathizer. As a result, they weren’t willing to risk their lives and join the Starks in the fight against Robert Baratheon’s army. They were claiming that King Robert had every right to demand Jon’s head and that if her father wanted to truly prove himself loyal to the North, he would have to hand over the Targaryen bastard. The North had no need of another war because of a Targaryen.

So, their stance had left her father with no choice. He would never break his promise and let Jon die, but he understood that they also needed the other northern houses’ army, if they were to survive an attack. And the only way he could think of how to do that was to explain the whole truth about Jon and his parentage and to prove his nephew’s loyalty to the North. Consequently, he had taken it upon himself to send ravens, informing the other Northern lords about the true events concerning Jon. In his letters he was writing about the love between Rhaegar and Lyanna and their secret wedding, which made Jon a trueborn instead of a bastard and a product of true love instead of rape. He was reminding them of how highly everyone thought of Lyanna and he was telling them of how Jon was just like her and a true son of the North, who had nothing to do with the side of his real father’s family. Jon had been raised as a Stark and had never known another family. He was a boy innocent of Rhaegar’s crimes and he most certainly did not deserve Robert Baratheon’s wrath.

But still, even after they had received the ravens and although their stance had considerably relaxed, it was obvious that they were not convinced and felt uncertain about Jon. They didn’t like having someone bearing the Targaryen name in their midst and so, her father had come up with a final plan. To give Jon his mother’s name and legitimize him as a Stark instead of a Targaryen and then to marry him off to Sansa in order to strengthen his Stark legacy and remove any doubt from the Northern lords that Jon’s sympathies could lie with anyone but the Starks and the North. He wanted to show them that Jon was a Stark and a Northerner through and through; one that needed to be protected. And with that Sansa couldn’t agree more.

Thus, when the time had come and Ned had asked for Jon and Sansa to visit him in his solar and had revealed his plan, Sansa as a dutiful daughter and a Stark had agreed to both Jon’s disbelief and her father’s relief. It had been apparent that her lord father had thought that she would be the one to oppose the union a lot more than Jon and her former half-brother had been simply rendered speechless by her response. He had always thought of her as this silly little girl that never cared about anyone but herself and even though it had been nice for once to prove him wrong, deep inside she knew that he wasn’t entirely wrong and her agreement to her father’s proposal wasn’t exactly a selfless act.

If she was completely honest with herself, one of the main reasons she had agreed, besides saving his life, was because of what she thought Jon could give her in the future and given who his real father had been and what the outcome of the war might be, he could give her more than most of the other lords in the Seven Kingdoms ever could. Suddenly her dream of becoming a Queen wasn't so far-fetched anymore.

“Have you completely lost your mind? Why did you agree when Father asked? I know how you feel about me, Sansa. You never fail to make me aware of your feelings. So, please explain to me why would you ever want to marry me?” Jon yelled at her as he suddenly came to a halt in front of her, pulling her from her thoughts. Sansa found it hard not to roll her eyes at him, but refrained from doing so.

“Feelings don’t matter. It is my duty as a Stark to protect our family. Jon, don’t you see? Everyone is in danger and even though you never asked for this, it is all because of you. So, one would think that you would be a little more thankful for the fact that all of us care about you so much to come up with a plan like this and agree to do it instead of acting out. Would being married to me really be that terrible for you? Up until yesterday you were a bastard with no future and now you get to be a Stark and marry a real lady,” she told him as Jon kept glaring at her.

“Yeah, a lady who happens to be my sister. Are you really in such a hurry to follow in the Queen’s footsteps and make us the next Lannisters?” This time Sansa couldn’t help rolling her eyes.

“Jon, don’t be so dramatic. We’re cousins, not siblings, and everyone is aware of it. No one would accuse us of being like the Lannisters. Father said as much. Besides, being a Targaryen yourself, I thought you wouldn’t find it that big of a deal. It is me who should have a problem with this, not you.” Before she even finished talking, Sansa realized the line she had crossed as she watched Jon close his eyes, like he was trying to compose himself and not do something he would regret.

“I’m a Stark, not a Targaryen and I can assure you that I would never fancy my sisters. This whole conversation is meaningless. I’ve already made up my mind about what I should do. I’ll join the Night’s Watch and rid you all of this problem,” Jon said with finality, making Sansa start panicking. Something like this would never work. He would never be safe, if he did this.

“You are a fool, if you think Robert Baratheon would let you live the rest of your days on the Wall. The man is furious and he’s out for blood. The war he’s in with the Lannisters isn’t doing any favors on his temper either. If you go to the Wall, he’ll just send an assassin or order someone there to kill you. Father will never let you go and take that chance. I won’t let you go. In fact I forbid you to bring this up ever again,” she yelled at him and Jon sighed deeply. She knew he knew she was right. It was written all over his face.

“And so what? You prefer we marry? You prefer to give up your freedom for me? I know you, Sansa, and you’ve never acted this selfless and especially with something like this that would impact and change your life so radically.”

“So, you think saving my cousin’s life and helping my family isn’t enough? Do you really think that little of me?” she asked and she felt hurt by his implication.

“Of course not, but-” Jon looked so conflicted, as he tried to find the words to explain himself.

“I just don’t understand how you can possibly want this. You agreed so fast like it was so easy for you to accept. You know, you were right when you said that this is something I never thought I’d get to have. But what about you? Why are you suddenly so accepting of marrying a bastard? It’s all I’ve ever been to you and you never failed to remind me of my place. I just don’t understand your change of heart. If anything, you should hate me even more now with everything that’s happening.”

“I never hated you and I’m not going to start doing it now,” Sansa said and then took a deep breath as she stared into his eyes.

“Jon, you must know why I was always so distant. It wasn’t because I didn’t care for you, but because it hurt Mother. You know how she always felt about you, before Father told us the truth, and I’m sure it’s not going to be easy for her to shake off those feelings. I, however, never shared them. I was just trying to please her and now there is no reason for that. I want to help you and help our family get through this. It’s not easy for me as you say, but perhaps it is a bit easier for me than it is for you because I never allowed myself to feel towards you the same way I felt about our other siblings. Maybe this isn’t the case for you and you’ve always seen me as your sister -even though, I’m sure I’ve always been your least favorite sibling- but your role in this house was never that clear for me.” Jon let out a humorless laugh as she finished. Here she was opening her heart to him and he was laughing at her.

“And what is my role now? Am I supposed to just live here as your husband? With Father, our siblings and your mother?”

“Nothing has to change in your relationship with them. You’ll be who you’ve always been to them. It’s only our relationship that will have to change.”

“Sansa, come on. You know I have nothing to offer you. You’ve always dreamed of having a castle of your own and of going south and I can’t give you any of that. I don’t own any lands and the best case scenario is for us to stay forever at Winterfell, while Robb rules it. If he lets us of course. Why would you want that? One thing you always disliked more than me was the possibility of spending the rest of your life in the North. You hate it here,” he told her exasperated.

“It doesn’t have to be like this. I’m sure the chance will arise and we’ll have a far more promising life than what you just described.” Sansa was confident in what she was saying in her attempt to convince him, but as she watched him looking at her skeptically, absorbing everything she had just said to him, she quickly realized her mistake, the moment his eyes turned cold.  

“Oh, I see what this is about. Arya told me an interesting story the other day about how you were crying for days when the King chose the Tyrell girl for his son. You were hoping that because King Robert was Father’s friend he would ask for your betrothal with the prince and your dreams shattered when he didn’t. And now that my parentage was revealed you suddenly got your hopes up again. This is all about you becoming a Queen, isn’t it?” he accused her and Sansa flinched at the harshness of his tone.

“Jon, it’s not-”

“If this is why you agreed, go and tell Father right now that you made a mistake and you don’t want this. I can’t believe you. We’re at the brink of war and all you can think about are bloody songs and fairy tales,” Jon seethed and Sansa felt tears filling her eyes. His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they did. She knew he was right about most of it. How stupid her dreams always were and why she was now doing everything that she was doing. She had never really cared about Jon’s opinion of her before, but somehow now it was different. She felt embarrassed that he was calling out on her like that and that he had such a low opinion of her.

“I don’t think about songs and fairy tales. I know what’s at stake. But so what if I wanted something more for us? We’re not the ones starting the war and if we were to demand more at the end of it, our cause would be just. If we were victorious, you would be the best candidate for the Throne. You would be the rightful heir. You’re a Targaryen and it’s your birthright. Especially since King Robert’s children proved to be nothing more than Lannister bastards. I just want what’s best for you and for all of us,” Sansa defended herself as she kept crying. Her tears were now running freely down her face, making Jon sigh at the sight of her and kneel before her, taking her hands in his.

 _Good,_ Sansa thought to herself.

 _He should feel bad for making me cry_.

“Sansa, war is never just. It’s war. It’s bloody and it’s terrible and a crown or a throne isn’t something I would ever risk other people’s lives to get. I don’t want the stupid throne. I just want us to be safe again. I don’t want to be a Targaryen. All I ever wanted was to be our Father’s son. Ned Stark’s trueborn son, like Robb and Bran and Rickon. All I ever wanted was to be a brother that you would be proud of and that you would love like you do the rest of them. But all I ever got from you in return were snarky remarks because I was a bastard. Did you even stop to think how this makes me feel? My world is crushed. I found out that in the end I never had a father either. My real father is dead and so is my mother. I never met them. And all the jealousy and resentment I felt all these years were for nothing. Because none of this was ever mine to begin with,” Jon finished and Sansa, forgetting about her own tears, suddenly felt the need to comfort him instead and so she squeezed his hands back gently with hers.

“I know that you’re sad that Father is not really yours, but you’re still a Stark. You’re Aunt Lyanna’s son and Father promised to give you the Stark name, regardless of who your father was. Just because you’re not our Father’s son, it doesn’t make you any less of a Stark. You’re just as much a Stark as the rest of us. And perhaps he didn’t sire you but he was your father all the same, because he raised you as his own. And if we marry, in a way he’ll become your father even more so than before.”

“Sansa, I know that we were never close but still… I can’t see you as anything but my sister. This marriage will never be fruitful and it will make us both miserable.”

“I know it might feel like this in the beginning, but with time we can learn to see each other differently,” Sansa said as Jon lowered his gaze to the ground.

“All I want is for us to be safe too, Jon. I don’t really care about the rest. There is no time for us to find another way. You know this is our best hope to unite everyone, while we still can, now that the Baratheons are dealing with the Lannisters. Please, just say yes,” Sansa begged and kept holding on Jon’s hands like her life was depending on it. And in a way it was.

“You know that Robb and the rest of our siblings are going to be furious when they find out about this. They’re not going to accept it. And your mother. Oh, your mother-”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not their place to tell us what to do. And I’m sure they’ll be relieved when Father explains the reason. The North needs to see you for who you really are. A Northerner and a Stark and this is the easiest and most certain way to make that happen. Please, Jon. Just say yes, please…” Sansa begged once more, staring in his brown eyes with her blue ones, and when she was ready to give up, she saw Jon finally nodding his head reluctantly in agreement.

“Yes,” he whispered to her and then they hugged and Sansa felt an unprecedented relief flooding her.


	2. The Betrothal

**Jon**

“What were you and Sansa doing in Father’s solar?” Arya asked, appearing out of nowhere, right after Jon and Sansa had parted ways outside the room. Jon watched as his little sister kept looking suspiciously at Sansa while talking to him, even though Sansa was walking down the hall and away from them, without even sparing them a glance.

“Father needed us for something,” he answered, avoiding meeting her gaze. He couldn’t help the way his heart started beating faster.

“Well, and why weren’t you with Father then? I saw him with Mother like a while ago. Were you in there with Sansa this whole time?” Arya wondered, gawking at him, as if it was preposterous for Jon to be spending any time with her big sister. Well, in her defense Jon and Sansa hardly ever spent any time together and when they did, their siblings were always with them.

“Uh...” Jon felt his mouth go dry as he tried to come up with a believable lie, but he couldn’t find any words to speak. There was no way he was ready to tell Arya the truth yet.

“Please don’t tell me she was sucking up to you, because of what Father told us.”

“No, of course not. Father just wanted to make sure everything was alright between us. You know our relationship hasn’t always been the best and it’s important that we stay united during this difficult time,” he said and hoped Arya wouldn’t ask any more questions.

“Oh. I guess that makes sense,” Jon was relieved to hear her say as they started walking towards the yard. He was supposed to be sword fighting with Robb and Theon before his father had called for him and Sansa. So, they would probably still be there.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Now that you’re a trueborn Targaryen, it means you’re more important than any of us. Do you think that you could ride a dragon like Aegon the Conqueror, if they still existed?” Arya asked and sounded really excited about it.

“I sincerely doubt it,” he replied and then saw the way Arya’s face fell.

“I always wanted to be like Visenya,” she confessed and sighed deeply. It was weird for Jon to hear her say that. If he had a choice, he wouldn’t be a Targaryen at all. But Arya, just like Sansa, was always fascinated by the Targaryens. For completely different reasons of course. Arya had always loved the war stories about the dragons and the dragonriders and Sansa had always loved the romantic stories, like the one about Queen Naerys and Aemon the Dragonknight.

“You know that the fact I’m a Targaryen also means I’m not really your brother, right?” Jon asked. He was confused as to why something like this would make Arya happy. The two of them had always shared a deep bond and Jon for his part had actually been crestfallen to learn that they weren’t siblings. Especially when it came to her and Robb.

“Don’t be silly, Jon. You’ll always be my brother and I know for a fact that Robb and the others agree with me. For us nothing has changed and I hope you feel the same way. Now, I can’t swear for Sansa, but you know how she is,” Arya said and Jon almost missed his step at the mention of his wife to be. He knew exactly how Sansa felt about it, but at least he could count on the rest of his siblings for support. He only hoped that his marriage with Sansa wouldn’t ruin his relationship with them.

“I know you were too shocked to pay any attention to anything else that was happening while Father was talking to us, but you should have seen her face. I thought she was going to explode. I’m so happy she’ll never get to insult you again. And if she ever makes fun of either of us, you’ll be able to just put her in her place,” Arya told him gleefully and suddenly Jon for the first time in forever felt the need to defend Sansa.

“Come on. Sansa has never been that mean to me or you,” he said lamely, knowing exactly what a lie that was and causing a deep frown to appear on Arya’s face, just as they were reaching the yard.

“Yes, she has. Why are you defending her? She’s always been mean to both of us and especially you. Even Robb knows that, although he’s always defending her himself. Isn’t that right, big brother?” Arya asked, looking expectantly at the oldest of the Stark children.

“What are we talking about?” Robb asked, walking towards them with Theon in tow, after having just stopped their sword practice.

“Sansa and how she’s always horrible to Jon,” Arya clarified.

“Can you really blame her?” Theon murmured and immediately shut up, when he received a glare from all three of them.

“Why? Did she say something to you?” Robb asked with a worried look on his face as he turned his attention to Jon.

“No, of course not,” Jon replied quickly, lowering his eyes to the ground and finding a sudden interest in his boots.

“She didn’t say something now, but we were speaking generally,” Arya explained.

 “She was just taking Mother’s side. You know she loves you, though, right?” Jon could feel Robb’s intense gaze on his person as he said that and he knew his face and ears had already turned a shade darker while he kept staring at his feet.

“Now that both her and Mother know the truth, it will be easier for her to show that affection, I’m sure of it,” Robb reassured him then and Jon, knowing his brother did that only because he had sensed his uneasiness, nodded. If only he knew the real reason behind his reaction, Robb wouldn’t be trying to comfort him.

“And you, little lady, stop complaining about our sister all the time. You know she loves you as well,” his brother finally turned his attention to Arya and Jon could breathe air again. He was sure that when Robb found out, he would kill him.

“Whatever… Can I practice with you guys?”

“Absolutely not. Jon, you coming?” Robb asked and Jon nodded again reluctantly, while he heard Arya whining next to him.

˜*˜

At dinner, everyone was surprised to see Sansa take the free seat next to Jon instead of her usual one next to Robb or Jeyne Poole, after she entered the Great Hall. Jon knew why she was doing it and as he felt her hand squeeze his under the table, he could almost ignore all the strange gazes coming their way. He desperately needed to believe that what she had told him was true and everything would be okay, but he had trouble trusting her. Her very motives when it came to their union were still worrisome to him. He could only hope she wouldn’t try anything stupid to fulfill them in the future.

Tonight was the night his father would announce their betrothal and it was going to be hell. Luckily for him, uncle Benjen, who had always been on his side, was also here and if the smile he was trying to hide behind his wine cup, when their eyes had met, was anything to go by, he already knew of what was going to unfold and he seemed to have no problem with it. In fact, Jon was willing to bet his uncle was also excitedly waiting for all the fainting and yelling to start. The drama in their family had always amused him. As a Night’s Watch Ranger, Benjen Stark had seen some serious stuff and he was always reserved and solemn, except for when he was surrounded by all of them. The children’s innocence and Arya’s mischief had always brought a smile on his face. They all loved their uncle Ben and he loved all of them back just as deeply, and his presence during this dinner was something that definitely gave Jon courage. At least until his eyes met Lady Stark’s.

Her icy glare told him all he needed to know. The moment her blue eyes that were so much like Sansa’s locked onto his, he could tell she already knew as well and he felt all his courage escaping his body, causing him to withdraw his hand from Sansa’s like it was on fire. Although he felt his sister’s hurt gaze on him, he didn’t dare to look back at her or explain, but instead, taking a nearby pitcher, he filled his wine cup and then drank it all down, like he was a man dying of thirst.

The evening continued in pretty much the same way. Jon kept drinking like there was no tomorrow, without ever opening his mouth to speak to anyone and Sansa kept sulking next to him, avoiding all contact as well. His eyes had caught Robb’s worried gaze a few times, while his brother was talking to Theon, but he always just gave him a shrug in response and went back to drinking. Arya, although she was mostly engrossed in conversation with their two little brothers, did the same as Robb, but every time her eyes drifted towards their sister and turned hard, making Jon aware of what his little sister was probably thinking. That he was brooding because he was stuck sitting alone next to Sansa. Fortunately, his father didn’t pay him any mind, and if he did, he already knew the reason behind Jon’s odd behavior and let it go, being too busy discussing about the Lannisters and the Baratheons with uncle Benjen, Ser Rodrik Cassel and his nephew Jory, as well as the rest of the guests. Jon was certain that the reason all of them were here was because of what his lord father meant to announce later.

The strangest of the looks he got all night, however, didn’t belong to a member of his family. They belonged to none other than Jeyne Poole. Jeyne was Sansa’s best friend and never while he had been growing up had she paid any attention to him. But of course, why would she have? He had been no one but a bastard and she was too much like Sansa to see past that and so she had only ever looked like that at Robb or even Theon. However, now that she knew of his parentage, she seemed to have changed her ways. Every time he had caught her looking at him, there was always a warm smile on her lips, while she playfully stared at him, sometimes hiding behind her drink or other times playing absently with her curls.

If only things were so simple and he had to marry Jeyne instead of Sansa. Even though Jeyne was just as stuck-up as Sansa, at least she wasn’t his sister and Jon would marry her in a heartbeat, if it meant he could avoid marrying someone whom he grew up thinking of as his sibling. So, in his drunken state, he had no problem returning some of those smiles and glances and if Sansa noticed, he couldn’t tell, because he purposefully kept his eyes away from her face. He already knew she was disappointed in his behavior, he didn’t need to see how angry she really was.

After a long time had passed and the table had been cleared of almost all the food, Jon chanced a glance towards his father, who was sitting at the head of the table and Ned, meeting his gaze, gave him a reassuring smile, before he got up and demanded everyone’s attention.

“I know some of you are still struggling with what I revealed to you a few days ago and I also know you’re aware of what this revelation has caused. When he’s done with the Lannisters, King Robert’s wrath will follow the North and our family. You must be sure of that. He’s always been obsessed with what happened to Lyanna and he’s not going to forgive me. He thinks I betrayed him. He wants Jon dead and he’ll try everything to get his way,” his father said and looked at everyone’s worried faces. Lady Stark was the only one who didn’t match their expressions and Jon knew it was not because she wasn’t worried, but because she knew where this speech was going.

His father had told him that she was having a hard time forgiving him for not trusting her in the first place and keeping it a secret from her for all these years. And Jon knew that the truth hadn’t really changed the way she looked at him. He could only imagine how she was feeling now that his father was planning on marrying her daughter with Jon. He could see it every time their eyes would meet, how terrified she was of what this might mean for her family. She was worried for Robb’s place and the rest of her trueborn children’s place. She knew that in the end, Jon was more highborn than any of them. If Rhaegar Targaryen hadn’t lost and died at the battle of the Trident, Jon would have grown up as a prince, because just like his real father he was the blood of the dragon, even though Jon felt nothing like it. Nevertheless, he could tell that Lady Stark had no desire to see her daughter wedded to him. Well, that made two of them.

“This is why it is necessary that when the time comes and Robert does turn on us, we, the North, are united. Most of the lords have expressed doubt, regarding Jon and his loyalties. They don’t trust to have a Targaryen among them. Because, even though many years ago I claimed Jon as my own and made him a Snow, the truth is that he is indeed a trueborn Targaryen,” Ned confessed and without realizing it, Jon was the one to reach for Sansa’s hand under the table now, surprising her. He knew what was coming and it wasn’t winter they needed to worry about.

“So, I plan to remove any doubt in their minds by giving Jon the Stark name,” his father announced and Jon could hear people gasp around the table. Suddenly, Lady Stark’s icy stare returned to him, making Jon wish he could vanish. The good thing was that when he looked at the faces of his siblings and the rest of the people attending dinner, he only saw approval but also confusion at what Ned was saying.

“This is great, my Lord. But how do you plan to do this? You need the King’s approval to legitimize Jon as a Stark, even if we all know he’s not a Snow. And I’m sure Robert Baratheon isn’t going to be willing,” came Ser Rodrik Cassel’s voice from where he was sitting near his father, turning everyone’s attention to him.  

“No, I cannot do this without the King’s approval, but there are other ways for someone to change their name. Marriage has always been one of the best ways to make alliances and Jon is old enough to wed. However, the same way the other Northern lords don’t trust Jon, I don’t trust them with his life either. I’m not going to betroth him to a girl from another house and risk them turning on us and handing him over to Robert. This is why I’ve decided that Jon must marry within our own house and therefore take the Stark name,” his father said, and if they had been surprised before, now they all looked shocked.

“What do you mean, Father?” Robb asked as he got up from his seat, expressing everyone’s confusion who kept whispering around the table. All except for Lady Stark, who was just looking between Jon and Sansa, unable to hide her disapproval and Theon Greyjoy who seemed to know exactly where his lord father was going with this. Theon had always prided himself for being the last living son of Balon Greyjoy, lord of the Iron Islands, and had always made fun of Jon for being a Snow. But in reality, Theon had always wished of being a Stark and Robb’s real brother. And Jon knew by the way Theon kept glaring daggers at him that the reason he picked up on his father’s meaning so fast was because in the past, he had considered the possibility of marrying Sansa himself. Strangely, the realization made Jon want to hold onto Sansa’s hand even tighter.

“How can Jon possibly marry within our own house? We don’t have any cousins for him to marry. Uncle Benjen has no children and we have no other relatives bearing the Stark name.”

 “No, Benjen has no daughters for Jon to marry, but I do. I have two daughters and they’re both Jon’s cousins. And one of them is old enough to be betrothed to him,” his father said and the moment he did all eyes turned to look at him and Sansa and if Jon had thought Lady Stark’s hateful glare was bad, it was the look of betrayal and disgust he saw on Robb and Arya’s faces that hurt him the most.

“WHAT?! Father, you can’t be serious! Jon and Sansa? No way!” Arya screamed as she got up as well.

“Arya, please sit down,” Ned tried to calm her down, but before anyone had a chance to react, Arya was out of her seat and was attacking Sansa, grabbing her from her hair and dragging her out of Jon’s grasp as well as her seat at the table.

“You manipulative bitch! Now that you know how important Jon is, you want to take him for yourself, when you always hated him. You did this! You did this,” Arya accused and kept pulling Sansa’s hair, while Sansa was crying and screaming. Jon and Robb were both on them immediately, trying to separate them, but Arya had a strong grip on her sister’s hair and was unwilling to let go.

“Arya, stop right now!” his father yelled from the other side of the table, but still Arya did not listen. Jory Cassel joined then in the attempt to separate the sisters, while the rest stared at the scene frozen in place and it was only when Arya managed to pull out a large lock of Sansa’s hair and the redhead screamed in pain that Robb and Jory managed to pull Arya back. Arya, who was left staring at the hair in her hand, only now realizing what she had done, while Sansa crumbled in Jon’s arms, crying and holding her head, which was now bleeding from the spot her sister had violently pulled her hair from.

“Robb, take Arya to her room. Now!” his father ordered, losing his patience and Robb following his order, took Arya -who had now gone slack in his arms, still staring at the red hair in her hand- out of the Great Hall, giving one last glare towards Jon, who stood frozen with his arms around Sansa, while she kept crying silently with her face buried in his chest. From pain, from embarrassment, Jon didn’t know. Maybe a little bit of both.

“Someone check on Sansa,” his father commanded and fell back on his chair, sighing deeply, only to receive a glare from Lady Stark, as she stood up to get to her daughter.

“I think you’ve done enough,” she told Jon angrily, pulling Sansa away from him, just in time for Maester Luwin to come to their aid and inspect Sansa’s head. Sansa, who had now taken refuge in her lady mother’s arms.

“It’s not that bad. We will clean the blood from the wound and it will be fine. The bleeding is already stopping,” the Maester said and Jon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Well, to Jon and Sansa’s betrothal! I hope the wedding is half as eventful,” came Benjen Stark’s amused voice then, raising his cup in the air before winking at Jon and drinking down a long swallow. Jon could do nothing but stand there in defeat.

 


	3. A Marriage Only In Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone!!!  
> Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos! I really appreciate it!  
> I'd love to read your thoughts on this chapter as well! :)

**Sansa**

Sansa could still feel her scalp burning at the spot where Arya had pulled her hair from earlier and she kept trembling, while she lay on top of the furs of her bed. She was angry with her sister and with everyone else who hadn’t defended her. Yes, they had pulled Arya off of her, but only after she had managed to rip her hair out of her head. And then no one had said anything in her defense about the cruel things Arya had said to her. Not even Jon. Jon had just stood there like an idiot and had seemed to care more about Arya and how she was reacting and feeling than protecting and defending Sansa.

_Is that what they all think of me? How they all see me? As a manipulative bitch, who’s always hated Jon and only turned to him when it suited her?_

_Isn’t that exactly what you did though?_ A little voice wondered inside her head, but Sansa immediately denied it. Arya could be right about a lot of things, but she was wrong about this. Sansa had never hated Jon and she would never let anyone accuse her of that. The reason she had agreed to this match was first and foremost to protect him and that was the only truth. No one had the right to tell her that she didn’t care about Jon.

_Even if Jon himself doesn’t believe me_ , she thought to herself and it made her shudder, feeling fresh tears coming to her eyes.

The night had been nothing but terrible. When she had entered the Great Hall, she had been hopeful, despite also feeling a little insecure. She had anticipated that her siblings wouldn’t take the news kindly, but she had never thought she would get attacked for it and most importantly, she had never expected Jon would simply stand by and let it happen.

Jon had been awful to her during the entire evening. She had come to him, thinking they were together in this, but it hadn’t been long before he had proved her wrong. From the moment she had first seen him sitting by himself, away from their other siblings, she had known how terrified he must have been feeling and so -ignoring Jeyne Poole’s wave, inviting her to sit beside her like usual- she had chosen the empty seat next to Jon, getting disbelieving looks from everyone around her for her trouble and especially that of her friend’s, who had looked at her like she had suddenly grown two heads.

Sansa hadn’t minded, however, because Jon’s well-being was far more important than any look Jeyne Poole could give her. Soon, they were going to be married and Jon would become the most important person in her life and she had wanted him to know that she could be that person for him too, when she had taken his hand in hers. But before she even had had a chance to speak to him and see how he was doing, he had pulled his hand from hers like she had offended him by merely trying to be supportive. Instead of comforting him, she had managed to somehow anger him even more and then he had started drinking, like he had had no other way of coping and had ignored her for the rest of dinner. During said dinner -as if all of that hadn’t been enough already- he had kept exchanging flirty smiles and glances with Jeyne, leaving Sansa feeling utterly humiliated.

Sansa knew Jeyne had only been doing it to punish her for ignoring her by proving her that Jon had more interest in her than he had in Sansa, who had been sitting right next to him, and although she thought it was cruel and she didn’t deserve it, she could find it in her heart to forgive her, because her friend had had no idea about the betrothal yet. Jon, however, had knowingly flirted with her, even though Sansa had been right there and she could see everything.

_Is this what it’s going to be like?_ she asked herself, but then her mind provided her with the image of Jon holding her hand under the table, right when their lord father had been about to announce their betrothal.

_Maybe it doesn’t have to. Maybe there’s still hope. I can make him learn to love me and only me_ , she decided, wiping her tears off her face, as a knock was suddenly heard upon her door.

“Who is it?” she asked, trying to make herself presentable. She had already embarrassed herself enough for one night. She wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction to see her still upset and in tears.

“It’s me. Robb. May I come in?” came her brother’s voice from the other side of her chamber’s door, making her heart race.

“Come in,” she replied after a moment of hesitation, as she sat upright at the edge of her bed.

She was scared to look at him, when Robb opened the door and stepped inside, but after a while of no talk or movement, she finally found the courage to look at him and was met with a pair of sad blue eyes, instead of the angry ones she expected. Robb, sighing deeply, closed the door behind him then and walked slowly to her bed, sitting next to her, as they both stared at the floor instead of each other.

“Are you alright?” he asked after another moment of silence.

“Sure,” she answered and Robb sighed again, burying his face in his hands. She didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but it was a stupid question considering everything that had happened that night.

“I’m sorry about what Arya did. She shouldn’t have-”

“Shouldn’t she be the one apologizing right now instead of you?” Sansa asked exasperated, interrupting him and Robb, letting his hands drop in his lap, turned to look at her.

“You have to understand how difficult this is for all of us to stomach. I can’t… Sansa, how could you and Jon possibly agree to this? It’s insane. I just… I can’t wrap my head around this. How would you feel, if I were to tell you that Arya and I were getting married?”

“Robb, don’t be ridiculous. It’s not the same thing. Arya and you are siblings.”

“And you and Jon aren’t?” he asked and this time he sounded angry.

“No, we’re not. We’re cousins and cousins get married all the time.”

“Sansa, please don’t try to sell me the same story Father sold us earlier. You and Jon are not cousins. You are his sister, the same way you are mine and he is your brother, the same way I am yours. I don’t care, if he’s a fucking Targaryen. This changes nothing.”

“Yes, it does. It changes the fact he’s no longer safe. It changes the fact that the North’s allegiance to our House is hanging by a thread. Our own lives are at stake,” she yelled, meeting his eyes that were full of anger just like hers.

“And you somehow think that you marrying our brother will change that? Sansa you don’t have to sacrifice yourself for this shit. We’ll find another way,” Robb pleaded and took her hands in his own.

“I’m not sacrificing myself. I want this,” she said then, but couldn’t meet his eyes. Robb would never let them go through with it, if he knew how they both really felt. How he already knew they felt. He had always been overprotective of her and he loved Jon dearly to let them end up in a loveless and fruitless marriage with each other. So, she was going to have to convince him that what he knew was not the truth. Even if that made him feel sicker than he already felt. Because even if Robb didn’t want to admit it, this _was_ their best hope to survive.

“Please, I know you are not the person Arya claimed you to be earlier. You are far too kind and romantic to be this manipulative. You can’t possibly want to marry him just because he’s a Targaryen. That name is more a curse than a blessing. You know it is.”

“Maybe you’re right and it is. Although, I won’t say it didn’t cross my mind, especially because I’m such a romantic as you say. I always loved the songs and love stories around the Targaryens. But that’s not the reason I agreed to marry him. I did it, because I love him.”

“Of course you do. He’s our brother. But I already told you, we’ll find another way. You don’t need to marry him to protect him and our family.”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s not what I meant.”

“And what did you mean then?” Robb asked exasperated, letting go of her hands.

“I love him the way a woman loves a man. I think I’ve been falling for him for some time now,” she said and then chanced a look at Robb, who was just staring at her blankly, without uttering a word. She could barely hear him breathe.

“I… I think I might have started having these feelings even before Father told us the truth of his parentage. I just didn’t know how to interpret them then, because he was my brother, even if only half. He was always so infuriating and I was always trying to keep my distance from him and I think deep inside I always knew why, but didn’t want to admit it. I know you thought it was only because of Mother, but there was more to it than that. When Father told us the truth, I felt such relief and immediately I knew the reason.”

“Sansa, you can’t mean that,” Robb said in a low voice and looked as if he was going to throw up any moment now.

“I do mean it. I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.”

“And what about Jon? How does _he_ feel?”

“All I know is that Jon agreed to it, so you’d better not interfere. It’s a done deal. We both wish to wed, so you have to let us. It won’t feel this odd forever, I promise.”

“So, you want what happened tonight with Arya to keep happening for the rest of your days then?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t care less about how Arya feels. She has always despised me and now she’s just jealous that she’s gonna have to share Jon with me. She’ll get over it. What I care about is you. I need you to understand and to support me,” Sansa said as she turned to look at him with pleading eyes.

Robb sighed deeply then and once more buried his face in his hands, which were shaking.

“Why are you doing this to me? Do you know what you’re asking?”

“Yes. I’m asking you to be my brother and help me. Be there for me and not turn against me. Gods know everyone else is. Please, Robb. I have to marry Jon. It’s the only way I know I can protect him.”

“Sansa, I could barely accept the idea of you two having a marriage just in name, but that is a hell lot different than what you want. Being in love with him means you want a real marriage.”

“What I want and what I’ll get are two completely different things. Jon, even though he agreed, doesn’t feel the same way. So, if all I can get is him safe by my side, I’ll take it. Even if it’s a marriage in name only. I will know that I did everything to protect my beloved and the rest of my family. Please, don’t resent me and don’t be angry at Jon. Help me, Robb. You’re the only one I can count on,” Sansa said and her sad eyes met Robb’s conflicted ones.

“All I can promise is that I will try. Right now the thought is unbearable to me,” he told her after a few moments of silence.

“It’s all I ask,” Sansa said back, placing her hand on his shoulder. Robb patted her hand with his own and smiled sadly at her.

“Whatever happens, know that I will always have your back, even if I never wrap my head around this.”

“I love you, Robb.”

“I love you, too,” Robb said and hugged her, as Sansa let a couple of silent tears fall from her eyes. Before he said it, she had no idea how much she had needed to hear it. Robb had always been her biggest ally and now that she knew he would support her, even if he didn’t agree, she could breathe air again and somehow she knew that everything would be alright.

˜*˜

**Jon**

“Arya?” Jon called his little sister’s name for the fifth time, knocking tiredly on her chamber’s door, while resting his forehead on the wood. The events of the night had been enough to sober him up, but had also drained him both physically and mentally, as had being on edge all day, waiting for the time of the announcement to come.

“GO AWAY!” Arya yelled from inside her room, acknowledging him for the first time and making Jon sigh in frustration.

“I won’t leave until you open this door. I need to talk to you. Please-” Jon started pleading, when suddenly the door flew open and he was met with Arya’s furious gaze as he attempted to regain his balance, which he was thrown off.

“What do you want, traitor?” she asked with a venomous look on her face. Jon had never seen this side of Arya and he had never thought he would ever be on the receiving end of his little sister’s glaring eyes. He had always been her favorite brother and she his favorite sister and watching the anger and disappointment in her eyes hurt him deeply.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re angry with me, but I need to explain. It wasn’t an easy decision, Arya, but Father thinks it’s the best way. Sansa and I-”

“So now it’s Sansa and you,” she said and Jon felt heat rising to his face, as he looked at both sides of the corridor. If they stayed here anyone could hear them.

“May I come inside? Please…” he asked, looking at her with pleading eyes, until she moved aside, letting out an irritated huff of breath and let him enter, closing the door behind them.

“How could you, Jon? She’s our sister and even if she wasn’t, she’s Sansa. I think that’s enough reason for you to never want anything to do with her.”

“You’re being too hard on her. She’s only trying to help and do as Father says and so do I. It’s not something we want, Arya, but something we must do to protect our family. I’ve put you all in danger and Father gave me a way to make it better and I took it. As for Sansa, she’s only doing her duty. You shouldn’t have attacked her like that. You hurt her and I’m not just talking about the hair you pulled out,” Jon said and at his words Arya looked guiltily at the floor.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her like that, but I was so enraged. Robb said I shouldn’t blame her for everything and that you’re just as responsible for this as she is. And he’s right. I’m so mad at both of you, but I’m used to being angry at her and it was all I could think in that moment.”

“You should apologize to her. She didn’t deserve your reaction.”

“Fine, tell her I’m sorry then.”

“No, you must do it, yourself.”

“Whatever,” Arya said and paused, before she chanced a look at Jon again.

“Is she alright?” she asked, biting her lip anxiously.

“I don’t know. Her head is fine, but I haven’t seen her since the incident. Lady Stark took her away and I didn’t dare look for her. I know I should have, but I didn’t want to anger your lady mother more than I already had,” Jon answered and he looked defeated. He still didn’t know how to handle the whole thing with Lady Stark. Even if he and Sansa could find a way to coexist as a couple, he was certain that her mother would never accept him as her daughter’s husband.

“Robb said that he would check on her. I’m sure he’ll calm her down. And even though I really don’t want to, I promise to apologize to her tomorrow,” Arya said hurriedly, as if she sensed his turmoil.

“Is Mother giving you a hard time?” she asked then and looked sorry for him.

“Well, the same way you blamed Sansa, Lady Stark blames me… only worse. I don’t think she has it in her heart to forgive me. She thinks I’m responsible for everything that’s happening and I don’t blame her. She’s right.”

“No, Jon. You did nothing wrong… Well, except for agreeing to marry Sansa,” Arya said, annoyance returning to her face, but before long her expression changed again back to worry.

“Do you think Father is right? Is this really the best way to protect you?” she asked and as much as Jon wanted to deny it, after thinking it over and over again in his head and trying to come up with a different plan ever since he had agreed to it, he had no choice but to nod his head in agreement, as Arya let a frustrated sigh escape her lips.

“What is it going to be like from now on? I can’t believe I will have to share you with Sansa of all people. I was always your favorite the same way Sansa was Robb’s and I was okay with that. But now she gets to have you both. It’s not fair,” Arya whined and Jon, trying to comfort her, moved forward and took her in his arms.

“You’ll always be my favorite. Marriage or no marriage that will never change. Sansa can barely tolerate me and I her. This will be a marriage in name only. Nothing will change. I promise,” he said and kissed the top of her head, feeling Arya’s body relax in his embrace.

“Are you sure? Have you talked about this with Sansa? Did she agree? I mean, getting married is all she’s ever dreamed of,” Arya asked, searching the lie in his eyes.

“I’m sure. We both feel the same way. We’re only doing it for the family. This marriage is a farce, so you don’t need to worry your pretty little head anymore,” Jon assured her and he meant every word, because he couldn’t even begin to comprehend the situation being any different from that.

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I never should have acted like this. I love you, Jon,” Arya said and a contented smile was formed on her face.

“I love you too, sis,” Jon said back, hugging her tighter to his body and just for one moment, everything was right again in the world.


	4. The Old Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind comments and the kudos! You're all awesome! :)

**Sansa**

It was still dark, when Sansa finally decided to get out of bed and start her day. She knew that it was too early for anyone to be awake, since the sun hadn’t even risen yet, but she couldn’t stand another moment of shifting and turning in her bed. The events of the previous day, even though they had left her drained, they had also made her restless and so after Robb’s visit, she had spent the rest of the night, lying awake under her furs and contemplating everything that had happened.

Jon had naturally been the main reason for her restlessness, as his behavior and her lie to Robb about him had kept circling her mind. While she had been with her brother and after she had told him about her feelings for Jon, they had both heard him calling Arya’s name and probably pounding on her little sister’s door. At the sound of Jon’s voice, an awkward silence had spread between her and Robb and soon after, her brother had wished her good night and had left her chambers.

It had been obvious that both she and Robb had thought that if Jon was looking for Arya, he would soon come looking for Sansa as well. And even though Robb had been itching to have a fight with Jon before -since he had thought Jon was the one mainly responsible for what was happening- after her revelation, avoiding him had been all he seemed to have wanted. Robb had looked pale at the prospect of facing his brother in his sister’s chambers, after everything she had told him and even though Sansa understood his discomfort and sympathized with him, she couldn’t help but hope that one day, her and Jon could learn to care for one another, even if it wasn’t as man and wife.

But Jon had never come and that had only served to make her angrier.

 _Of course Jon would look to comfort sweet little Arya, but apparently showing any kind of interest in his future wife is at the bottom of his list of priorities_ , thought Sansa bitterly as she started putting her cloak over her night rail.

She wasn’t in the mood to get properly dressed yet, since no one would be awake to see her anyway. So, she decided to just put on her cloak and shoes and head for the Godswood. If sleep didn’t want to come and rid her of her uneasiness, perhaps praying to the Gods would. Then she would return to her chambers to bathe and change and afterwards she would seek her family in the Great Hall to break her fast with them. Surely they would be all awake by then.

It was only later when she finally reached the heart tree that she wondered why she had chosen to come here to pray instead of the Sept. Perhaps she was subconsciously trying to get closer to Jon, who had never shown any love for the New Gods, but only ever prayed to the Gods the children of the forest of Old Nan’s stories had once worshiped, just like her lord father. Sansa knew Jon came daily to pray under the heart tree and she thought the Old Gods would be the best to answer her prayers, since they already knew all of Jon’s secrets. If they could see Sansa’s pure intentions towards Jon, perhaps they would help her gain his affections.

 _Please, let him see I truly care about him_ , was all she kept thinking as she knelt at the bottom of the tree between the large white roots that were spreading on the ground.

 _I’ll be a good wife to him. I know we’ve never been close and that I have even been mean to him in the past, but all I want is for him to be safe. Help me save our family, save him. Please, protect him from the King’s wrath. He is not responsible for anything he’s being accused of. He’s just a boy that was born out of love. His parents’ crimes are not his fault. Help the rest of the North see that and how kind and loyal he really is. If he gives us a chance I know we can be happy together. This doesn’t have to be a farce. I do want to have a real marriage with him. To give him children. I know I lied to Robb when I told him I was in love with Jon, but one day I really want to be.  Please, bless us both. Bless our union_ , she prayed and as she did, a cold wind blew and it was only then she felt the tears that were quickly drying on her face, making her skin get even colder. However, she didn’t try to wipe them away. Instead, she let herself welcome the wind on her face and her hair and felt as if it was the Gods who were answering her prayers through the rustling of the heart tree’s red leaves.

She was entranced by the sounds of the Godswood around her and the feeling of the wind through her hair and on her body. Although she was so close to the base of the tree and was mostly covered by its roots and its trunk, the wind was so strong that it almost uncloaked her, making her body shiver and her nipples harden beneath her thin night rail, but Sansa was hardly bothered. On the contrary, she felt bliss at that moment. A bliss that she hadn’t felt in a long time, if she had ever even felt it at all. So, as the wind kept blowing, she found herself lying even closer to the tree, right under the long and melancholic carved face of one of the Old Gods and before she knew it, her eyes shut and sweet sleep claimed her tired body.

˜*˜

**Jon**

Jon had no idea what it was that had made him wake up, but he decided it was probably for the best. His sleep had been full of strange dreams that did nothing to help him forget his thoughts and dull his fears, but had left him feeling even more tired and drained than before. It was still very early in the morning, the sun only now rising on the horizon, and his headache was coming back with a vengeance, making him regret every single drop of wine he had had at dinner.

As he sat upright on his bed, dragging his feet lazily from under the covers to the ground and trying hard and failing to ignore the stabbing pains inside his head, he felt a cool breeze on his naked torso and his face, moving his curls out of his eyes, and for the first time since he had come to his chambers the previous night to sleep, he noticed that his window was wide open.

That made him pause for a moment, because he clearly remembered the window being closed, but then again he couldn’t really trust his last night’s inebriated brain to provide him with the truth and so he stopped thinking too much about it, as the hair on his body stood on end from the cold and moved to shut the window, as fast as his tired body allowed.

Right when he was about to, however, a howling wolf caught his attention. It sounded as if it was in pain and Jon listening carefully, realized that the sounds were coming from the Godswood. But that was impossible. How had a wolf entered the Godswood, when there were walls all around? It was insane and yet there was no mistaking that the howling was indeed coming from there. On the spur of the moment and without knowing what possessed him, Jon started putting on his clothes, forgetting all about his aching head, and before long he was out of his chambers and on his way to the Godswood.

˜*˜

The wolf had stopped howling, but Jon could feel he was getting closer, because even though the last of the wolf’s howls had sounded weak, they had also sounded like they were coming from somewhere very near him and when he finally reached the heart tree, he knew he had been right to believe so.

A large direwolf, the first Jon had ever seen, was sprawled across the ground in front of Winterfell’s weirwood heart tree, right next to the pool, with its gray fur dripping with red blood from where a stag’s antler was coming out of its body. He didn’t have to get closer to know that the wolf was already dead, but he knelt down carefully all the same next to the beast and ran his hand through its thick fur.

It was only when a whining sound was heard that Jon dragged his eyes away from the direwolf and looked behind him and from the sight alone, his heart almost stopped beating. Fear gripped him as he watched Sansa lying pale under the heart tree, between the roots, with small direwolf pups surrounding her unresponsive body.

For a moment, he just stood there watching in horror, but quickly he came back to his senses and ran to her, taking her body in his arms.

“Sansa… Sansa, wake up! Talk to me! Come on, open your eyes, sweetling!” he kept saying, as he touched her face and then checked her body for any traumas. Her skin was freezing cold, but thankfully there were not any obvious injuries on her person and Jon soon felt her heart beating slowly but surely inside her chest as she shallowly breathed through her nose.

“Sansa, come back to me! Wake up!” Jon urged her, after he took off his cloak and covered her with it, trying his best to warm her up and stay calm enough to help her. But the longer she remained unresponsive the more afraid he became, until suddenly, he saw Sansa’s eyes slowly fluttering open and meeting his own.

Jon could cry from joy at that moment, but he only gripped her tighter to his body, burying her face in his chest, as the little direwolves around them looked at them curiously, while they kept making what sounded like distressed noises.

“Jon,” Sansa murmured then, moving her face upwards, nuzzling his neck with her cold nose, but warming him with her breath.

“I’m right here. It’s alright. You’re alright,” he reassured her, while he kept running his hands up and down her back to help her get warm, but it felt as if he was trying to convince himself more than he did her.

“What happened?” she asked, almost whispering, and she sounded confused.

“You tell me. What in seven hells were you doing out here so early with so little clothing on? Were you trying to freeze yourself to death?” he asked her in return and without meaning to do it, his voice came out a little harsh.

“No... I… I just wanted to pray, but I must have fallen asleep,” she answered and although he couldn’t see her face, Jon could still hear her teeth chattering from the cold. She was definitely going to be sick after this. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why she had come here to pray so early in the morning. The sun had only just risen when he had come here himself and she had been in the Godswood long before he had. And what was she doing praying in the Godswood anyway? He had never seen her praying anywhere but the Sept and now she had just happened to start praying in front of the heart tree at this ungodly hour?

“Do you feel any pain?” he asked her then bringing his lips to her forehead to check her temperature, despite being already aware of her cold skin all over.

“I’m so cold,” she replied and just buried her face even deeper in his neck.

“Can you hold onto me? I’ll take you back to the castle.”

Sansa did not reply but only wrapped her arms around his neck, after Jon felt her nodding against him, and so, after placing one arm on her back and the other under her knees, he picked her up. As he stood on his legs, her weight was light on his arms and quickly, with steady steps, he started moving through the Godswood.

To his amazement, the little direwolf pups started following them back to the castle, leaving their dead mother behind and before long, one of them, an albino, with fur white as snow and eyes red as blood, came to his front and started leading the way, as the rest kept running beside him from each side. Right then, Jon knew that these direwolves were a blessing from the Gods and bringing him to Sansa was the only reason they had made it to the Godswood. If it wasn’t for them, he never would have found her in time and things could have been a lot worse for her. He couldn’t even bear to imagine how much worse. So, he swore to anyone that was listening that he would personally see to all the pups’ care and that he would not let them have the fate of their mother. But as he kept walking behind the silent white one, while the rest of them kept whining on each side, he already knew which would be his favorite.

˜*˜

**Sansa**

Sansa woke up slowly to the blurry image of her bed’s familiar canopy. She tried to bring her hand to her face and rub the sleep from her eyes, but she felt her arms being confined by heavy furs that were tucked carefully at her sides.

Without looking to see if there was anyone around, she found herself calling for Jon, since he was the last person she had seen before she had fallen asleep again. The last thing she could remember was him carrying her through the Godswood back to the castle and then nothing more.

However, it wasn’t Jon’s voice that came as an answer to her call, but Arya’s.

“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s just me,” her little sister said from her seat next to her bed and Sansa tried to sit upright, fighting off the dizziness that was clouding her senses.

“Don’t get up. You’re still very weak,” Arya told her as she rushed to her side and pushed her gently back down.

“Where is Jon? Is it noon already? How long have I been asleep?” she asked in a voice hoarse from disuse as she focused her gaze on Arya, only now noticing that she had been embroidering by her bed. Which was even stranger than her little sister being in her chambers, watching over her while she slept and that was saying something, since Arya never seemed to want to spend any time with her, but always favored the company of their brothers. But even so, it was embroidering she hated the most and for good reason. She had always been terrible at it. If anyone asked Sansa, she would say Arya’s embroidering skills were a lost cause.

“It depends. What’s the last thing you remember?” Arya asked her in return instead of answering, annoying Sansa.

“Why are you here? Did you finally come to apologize?” She asked back, leaving Arya’s question unanswered as well. She was expecting her sister to throw a fit at her words, like usual, but Arya only gave her a questioning look.

“No, seriously, what’s the last thing you remember?” Arya asked for a second time, making Sansa start feeling uneasy. Why was that so important? How long had she slept for?

“I was at the Godswood praying and then Jon found me and brought me back here, the morning after you attacked me like a wild animal, which you still haven’t apologized for. That’s the last thing I remember.”

“I didn’t know it was possible, but getting your moonblood has made you even crankier than before. Theon was right about something for once,” Arya said and it did nothing to help with the uneasiness Sansa was feeling. Slowly she was starting to panic.

“What are you talking about?” she asked in a shaky voice and for the first time Arya looked sorry for her.

“You’ve been sick for almost eight days now with high fever. You’ve been delirious, falling in and out of sleep for days, until Maester Luwin managed to bring your fever down late last night. Everyone has been really worried about you. Mother never left your side and she was the one feeding and bathing you. Three days ago, she found blood on your smallclothes and your sheets and she told me you flowered in your sleep. She left not too long ago and only because your fever was down and she was exhausted herself. I told her I would keep an eye on you and call her, if anything happened,” Arya explained and Sansa looked at her with what she thought was probably a terrified expression on her face.

As Arya’s words started to sink in, she found herself searching for proof that everything her sister had just told her wasn’t another one of Arya’s elaborate pranks and surely enough she felt first the wetness between her legs and then the soft pain in her lower belly. But before she could react to any of it, Arya started talking again.

“Jon has been dying to see how you’re doing, but Mother forbade him from coming to your chambers. She said it wouldn’t be proper, before you two are married, but we all know it’s because she’s holding a grudge. So, Jon has been broodier than usual. She was really distraught over your sickness, so Father let it slide, but imagine Mother’s irritation, when all you kept asking for in your delirious state was Jon,” her sister said and she looked amused.

“I did?” Sansa asked, taken aback, as she felt her face heating up from embarrassment.

“Oh, yeah. You must have taken this whole marriage thing a lot more seriously than I thought,” Arya said snickering, but then paused, her expression quickly changing into a serious one.

“Look, Jon explained that you’re just trying to protect him and that’s why you agreed. He told me about your deal to have a marriage just in name for the sake of the family. So, I guess what I’m trying to tell you is thank you for helping our brother, even if you’ve never been close to him. I deeply apologize for my behavior the other night. You’re giving up all your dreams of having a family of your own for this and I know it’s not fair or easy, but it’s also the right thing to do. So, thank you. I never thought you cared much about Jon, but listening to you worrying about him even in your sleep and through your fever has left me no doubt that you do. All joking aside, you’re a really good person, Sansa,” Arya finished and smiled kindly at her.

Sansa had no idea how she was supposed to feel about Arya’s apology. She was certainly pleased that Arya had said such sweet words and looked so sincere while apologizing, but she couldn’t help but also feel a little pained at the mention of her giving up her dreams and having a fruitless and loveless marriage with Jon. She had never agreed to that, but it was obviously how Jon had taken it and perhaps it was the only reason he had agreed to it in the first place. Sansa knew it would be hard, but she had expressed her hope to him that one day they could be more to each other and learn to love each other as husband and wife. But this was obviously something Jon was not interested in pursuing and this outright rejection of his of even the possibility of their future together left her feeling a little heartbroken.

“Thank you for your apology. It means a lot to me that you believe in me,” Sansa said and tried to hide the bitterness from her voice and her smile.

“Would you mind getting Mother? She’ll want to know that I’m awake. I don’t want her worrying more than she already has.”

“Of course, but first I need to give you something,” Arya told her and then reached for the piece she had been working on earlier, while she had been waiting for her to wake up.

As she brought it forward, Sansa’s eyes widened at what she saw. It was definitely Arya’s best work and the fact that her little sister had made it for her made it even more special. A beautiful winter rose was embroidered on a light blue handkerchief with her name _Sansa_ written on the bottom with carefully embroidered white letters.

“Thank you, Arya! It’s beautiful!” she said and she meant it.

“You’re welcome and by the way it’s my gift for your wedding, so don’t expect anything else,” Arya said and smiled as her cheeks started getting a shade of red. Sansa could see right through her and she knew that with her comment Arya was only trying to hide her embarrassment. Her little sister wasn’t used to compliments and the realization made Sansa feel bad about all the times she had made fun of her with Jeyne Poole.

“Well, I love it! I promise to keep it always with me!” she promised and Arya’s smile grew.

“I’ll go get Mother,” she said and right when she was about to open the door, she turned around to look at her.

“I should probably tell Jon too, so he can stop brooding already,” she added and then with one last smile, she was out of the room.


	5. Direwolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part of the previous chapter with some missing scenes! I hope it clears some things up for those of you who commented and I really hope you enjoy it! ;)

**Jon**

_“Jon, I’m so cold,” Sansa moaned, tightening her grip around his neck._

_“We’re almost there, sweetling. Just hold on,” Jon reassured her, bringing her as close to his body as he could, without missing his step, while he carried her back to her chambers._

_The sun was high enough in the sky that people had started going about their day in the courtyard and inside the castle, and Jon could not help but feel irritated by the questioning looks and whispers coming their way, the moment he was seen holding Sansa in his arms so early in the morning._

_Everyone knew about the betrothal by now and they all seemed too interested in gossiping about them to actually do anything to help them. On the whole way back, the small direwolves kept whining around him, but he only kept his eyes on the one he was planning to claim as his own, which was walking in a fast pace in front of him, until finally they reached the entrance._

_There he was met by Vayon Poole’s shocked face, staring from him to Sansa and back again, without ever noticing the wolves, before the older man spoke._

_“My… my lord! What happened? Is your betrothed well?” he asked, as if he didn’t know who Sansa was besides his betrothed. He hadn’t even called her a lady like she deserved, just his betrothed, and that only helped to worsen Jon’s mood._

_“No, she’s very cold and I need to get her back to her chambers immediately. Send someone to help her change in warmer clothes. I’ll handle lighting a fire myself,” Jon said and made a move to step inside, but was still blocked by Winterfell’s steward, who kept staring at him with his mouth hanging open._

_“That will be all. Now move aside,” Jon said, glaring at him, until the other man finally moved, stuttering an apology, and Jon started for Sansa’s chambers, all direwolves in tow._

_When he reached her bedchambers, he slowly opened the door with the hand he had on Sansa’s back, carefully balancing her weight on his other arm and then entered. He had never been in Sansa’s chambers before and he wasn’t really surprised to find that it was three times the size of his own bedchambers, decorated with beautiful furniture. Her bed looked huge in the center of the room, covered in fine linens and furs, its headboard touching the eastern wall, while the bed’s floral canopy in different shades of light grey and blue that was matching her eyes hung over its entirety, following the bedposts to the floor._

_He hadn’t realized he had paused, taking everything in, while he stood between the door and the bed, until the white pup brought him back to the present with a high pitched howl, staring at him with its red eyes, as if it was commanding him to snap out of it and take care of Sansa already, who had meanwhile fallen asleep in his arms._

_Giving a nod to the little direwolf he moved to the bed and tried to place her on it and cover her with the furs without waking her, in order to go to the hearth and start a fire to warm the room. Before he had a chance to move, however, Sansa opened her eyes and grabbed his arm with her right hand._

_“Don’t leave me, Jon. I’m so cold,” she muttered and Jon felt his face going as red as her hair, his gaze moving from Sansa to the door, which had been left wide open._

_“I’m going to light a fire,” he said, turning his gaze back to her, and hoped it would be enough explanation for her to let him go._

_“No, please. Stay with me,” she whined, looking up at him with pleading eyes and Jon, sparing one last glance towards the door, climbed on the bed with her, fully dressed, boots and all, only now realizing he hadn’t even removed hers._

_Bringing the furs up to her chin, he let her curl up to him, her body flush against his side and started moving his hand once more up and down her back to warm her up. To his surprise, the white wolf along with a light grey one tried and managed to climb onto the bed as well, moving and lying over the furs on Sansa’s feet, as if they were also trying to keep her warm._

_“You’re so kind. I never knew how much. I only knew what I saw from your interactions with Arya. You’re always kind and sweet with her,” she said in a low voice, bringing his attention back to her after a few moments of deafening silence. Her face was now buried in his neck and the only thing Jon could do was lie stiffly next to her._

_“I could have been that way with you too. But you never let me anywhere near you,” he replied and he knew he sounded bitter._

_“I was so stupid,” Sansa agreed and let a humorless laugh escape her lips._

_“I want to change that, Jon. I want us to be happy together,” she went on and Jon finally moved to look at her._

_“I think you have a fever,” he told her, only half joking because of the things she was saying, and once again placed his lips on her forehead, which was sure enough burning up._

_“I mean it. I want to love you and for you to love me. I want to have a family with you,” she said and pressed her forehead more firmly against his lips and placed her delicate hand over his heart on his chest._

_“Sansa…” Jon said and his voice sounded like he wanted to protest._

_“Jon…” Sansa said back, mimicking the tone of his voice and moved to look up at him._

_For just a moment, their eyes met and their breaths mingled. Jon felt as if the world stopped moving around him and as if he wasn’t really there, but was only watching the scene play out in front of him, unable to do anything himself. And then, Sansa moved her gaze to his lips and, without another word, pressed her own lips against his and kissed him._

˜*˜

Jon snapped himself out of the memory, moving his eyes back to Ghost’s, who was looking at him like he already knew what Jon had been thinking about, a moment ago. For the few days the direwolves had been with them, they had proved themselves to be very intelligent.

His lord father had been against keeping them at first, but after Jon’s explanation of how he had come upon them and how they had led him to find Sansa, he had convinced him they were a gift from the Gods –with the direwolf being the Starks’ sigil and all- and Ned Stark had finally caved in, agreeing that his children were meant to have them and thinking that they could be used for their protection.

The white one, Ghost –as Jon had named him, because of the way he looked and carried himself silently about Winterfell- had taken a liking to Jon the same way Jon had taken a liking to him and they had been inseparable ever since. Likewise, the rest of the direwolves had done the same thing, choosing a master of their own among the rest of the Stark children -who had all been excited to meet them and have them- following them around everywhere they went.

Robb had named his Grey Wind, due to the color of his fur and the way he looked when he ran. Arya’s was Nymeria –named after a warrior-queen from Dorne who had lived a thousand years ago- Bran’s was Summer and Rickon’s was Shaggydog. There was only one wolf left unnamed, currently lying asleep in his lap and this one was meant for Sansa.

Arya and Sansa’s wolves were the only ones that were female, which was fitting, and while Arya’s was playful and was always running around in the mud with her litter mates -much like Arya herself and their brothers- Sansa’s wolf, with her light grey fur, was always proper and looked too delicate to run in the mud with the rest. Instead, she was always standing by Jon’s side or lying on his lap, much like now.

Jon didn’t mind taking care of her along with Ghost. In fact, he was glad that the little pup had showed a preference to him. Arya had argued and had wanted to keep her for herself, until Sansa was well enough to have her, but the wolf had had a mind of her own.

During the first few days, the wolf had looked depressed and the times hadn’t been few when Jon had found her whining outside Sansa’s chambers, scratching on the door, asking to be let inside. But Lady Stark had forbidden it. She didn’t want the wolf anywhere near her sick daughter and so Jon had taken it upon himself to take care of her and keep her company, since much like the wolf, he was the only one who wasn’t welcome in Sansa’s bedchambers.

Thankfully, Arya and the rest were always telling him how she was doing after their visits, but Jon was always left feeling helpless, as if it was his responsibility to be taking care of her and he wasn’t even allowed to see her. So, instead of taking care of Sansa, he was taking care of her wolf for her and every night when he lay awake in his bed with Sansa’s wolf and Ghost, he thought of that day he had been lying in bed with her, while the same two wolves had been warming her feet.

˜*˜

_“What is this? Get out of my daughter’s bed, you bastard!” came Lady Stark’s furious voice, making Jon pull his lips away from Sansa’s to look terrified at her lady mother._

_Sansa was too feverish to care about what was happening or to feel any shame, but Jon had gone from red to completely white, looking for words, but coming up blank._

_“What in seven hells are you waiting for? GET OUT!” she screamed and before Jon had a chance to react, she was forcibly dragging him out of the bed and away from her daughter, until he finally landed on the floor._

_“What is the meaning of this? Why are you yelling?” Jon heard his father say, the moment he appeared at the entrance, Vayon Poole and Maester Luwin at his side, taking in the scene in front of them. Jon was just looking at his father helplessly from his spot on the floor._

_“Our daughter is sick and your bastard nephew was having his way with her,” Lady Stark yelled again, looking venomously at Jon, who at the sound of her words wished to crawl under a rock and die._

_“No, I wasn’t. I-”_

_“I found him in her bed, under the covers, kissing her. He couldn’t even wait for their wedding night. He decided to defile her while she is sick, unable to react.”_

_Sansa had fallen asleep again, due to her high fever, so Jon was left by himself, and for the life of him, couldn’t find the right words to explain the situation and defend himself, until finally his father took pity on him and told him to follow him to his solar._

_Jon got up and like a wet dog followed Ned outside, when Lady Stark’s angry voice was heard again._

_“What are these creatures? Take them out of here! Take them out of my sight!” she yelled and soon enough the little direwolves were running to him._

_“I can explain,” Jon said, after his father raised a brow at him, only just now noticing the pups._

_“You’d better,” Ned said and without another word, nodded his head in the direction of his solar for Jon to follow._

˜*˜

“JON! JON!” Arya yelled, running towards him, this time pulling him out of a horrible memory. The way she yelled his name made his heart start racing. Had something happened to Sansa?

“Is Sansa alright?” were the first words out of his mouth, getting up from his seat and placing Sansa’s direwolf on the ground, next to Ghost, the moment Arya reached him.

“Yeah! She just woke up and for the first time in days she’s acting like herself. Her fever is down and we even talked for a while,” Arya said excited and Jon felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Can I see her?” he asked and immediately chastised himself for his stupidity. Sansa was awake, but she wasn’t well enough to leave her bedchambers yet, which could only mean that there was still no way for him to see her.

“Sorry… Mother is with her,” his little sister explained and looked at him apologetically.

“Look, Jon. I know you feel responsible because you’re the one who found her, but there’s no need for you to worry anymore. She’s alright. You need to start taking care of yourself. Those dark circles under your eyes are huge. The pups aren’t the only ones that need care and attention,” Arya said, looking at him concerned and pointing at the two direwolves by his feet.

“I’m fine. I just haven’t been sleeping very well,” Jon assured her, as he brought his hand to his face to rub his tired eyes.

“Are you worried about what Father said? About the pressure he’s getting from the other lords?” she asked and to Jon’s surprise she didn’t seem to have a problem with what she was insinuating.

“He might change his mind,” was the only thing he said.

“That’s unlikely. Robert Baratheon is winning the war against the Lannisters and Father says we need to secure our alliances. They’re not convinced by the betrothal. They’re pressuring him for the wedding and for you to take the Stark name like he explained was going to happen.”

“I don’t understand what the big deal is. Surely they can understand that Sansa is too young to marry anyone. The betrothal will have to be enough for now.”

“That’s what Mother said. I heard her fighting with Father the other day, after Maester Luwin said Sansa was out of danger and that her fever would break. Mother thought that given the announcement of the betrothal, the wedding could wait for a few years. But Father said Sansa is a woman flowered and there’s no reason for that. And now that she is awake and well, he will want to speed it up,” Arya said and paused, before she looked at him uncertainly.

“Did you mean it when you said that nothing was going to change after the wedding?”

Jon just looked at her blankly.

“Why are you asking me this?” he asked instead of answering.

“Well, let me see. You’ve been worried sick about Sansa, even more so than Robb, Sansa has been calling your name in her sleep and Mother is unusually hostile towards you. Has something happened between you two?”

˜*˜

_“We’ll talk about the pups later. What I want to know now is what happened between you and Sansa,” his father said, staring at him, his hands fidgeting where they rested on his knees, after he took a seat next to the hearth of his solar, with Jon sitting opposite him._

_“Father, I-”_

_“Was Catelyn telling the truth, when she said you and Sansa were kissing in her bed?” he asked, interrupting him and Jon felt his cheeks grow hot._

_“It wasn’t like that. I mean… yes, we did kiss and I guess I was in her bed with her, but it’s really not what it sounds like.”_

_“And what was it like, then?”_

_“I found Sansa in the Godswood, following the sound of a howling wolf. That’s where I found the pups too,” Jon said and paused, trying to get the events in order._

_“Go on…”_

_“Sansa was sleeping under the heart tree and as I got to her and tried to wake her up, I realized she was freezing. When she came to her senses, she said she had come to the Godswood to pray and that she had fallen asleep. From that very moment I knew she was going to get sick. She was really weak to walk, so I carried her back to the castle and told the steward to send someone to help Sansa change into warmer clothes, while I lit up a fire for her in the room’s hearth.”_

_“And what happened next? How did you get into bed with her?” Ned asked, raising a brow, but he didn’t seem or sound angry._

_“I put her on the bed and covered her with the furs, but when I was about to leave and start the fire, she grabbed my arm and complained about being cold. I told her about the fire, but she didn’t want me to go. She asked me to hold her to keep her warm,” Jon said and paused again, unable to meet his father’s eyes._

_“I know I shouldn’t have, but I panicked, I wasn’t thinking. She was cold and she was pleading me to stay, so I got under the furs with her and tried to warm her up. She was delirious and she kept saying about how she wanted for us to be happy and have a real marriage. I knew she had a fever, so I didn’t really pay any mind in her words, but then she leaned in and kissed me and caught me off guard. I didn’t even have time to reciprocate the kiss or pull away, before Lady Stark barged into her chambers and started yelling at me,” he finished and then finally raised his gaze to look into Ned’s eyes that were giving nothing away._

_“I’m so sorry, Father. I know it was wrong of me to get into bed with her, but I really didn’t mean to dishonor her or do anything that Lady Stark accused me of. She’s my sister and I love her.”_

_“My sweet Jon, I never thought the accusations were true. But to be honest, I am a little disappointed.”_

_“I understand, Father,” Jon said and lowered his eyes to the ground._

_“No, you really don’t,” Ned said, smiling sadly at him, as Jon looked at him again confused._

_“It’s been nothing but an honor for me to be your father all these years and you can’t even begin to imagine how happy it makes me that you still think me and call me as such, but sometimes I wish you didn’t have to. I wish that you could have grown up knowing who your parents were, knowing who your mother was. I wish you could have had her by your side all these years, because I know it in my heart that Lyanna would have been an amazing mother to you. I know how much it always hurt you that you didn’t have a mother. She was someone I loved deeply and every time I look at you, I see her in your eyes and your face and your heart,” his father told him and Jon noticed that he had tears in his eyes. He had never seen him crying before._

_“Even though Robb is my real son and I couldn’t be prouder of him than I am, it’_ _s you I mostly see myself in. Robb often reminds me of my older brother, Brandon, strong headed and reckless at times, but you are so much like me. You are honorable and kind to a fault, but also strong and smart. You’re everything a father would wish for his daughter to find in a husband. I wish you could have grown up as cousins and that you could see her the way she wants you to see her. I know I forced you two to wed, but I wish you could learn to love each other differently in the future. To give my Sansa a babe, the way she always dreamed of. I don’t want you to pull yourself away from her, because you’re afraid of how we’ll react. If you want to really be with her, there’s nothing that would make me happier, but maybe not just yet. I don’t want to upset Catelyn more. But when she gets better, go talk to her. Ask her how she really feels and what she wants and if it is something that you want too, then go for it. I want my children to be happy. I don’t want you to end up miserable together. If you can find love, under these horrible circumstances, then please follow your hearts.”_

_“Thank you, Father. Your words mean the world to me. But I don’t know if I can be that for Sansa. She deserves someone much better than me. Someone who can give her everything you just said. I love her. I really do, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see her as something more than my sister. All I can promise though is that I’ll try to keep her safe and happy as much as I can,” Jon finished and shared another sad smile with Ned. Now he understood that the only reason his father was disappointed was because he knew Jon and Sansa would never find the love they deserved.  
_

_“This is exactly why there will never be anyone better for her than you,” Ned said and Jon averted his eyes to look at the ground again._

_“Now, about the pups…”_

˜*˜

“I meant it, Arya. Nothing has happened and nothing will change,” Jon reassured his little sister, as the talk with his lord father came to his mind. Arya just smiled at him then, looking relieved at his words.

“Come on then. Let’s tell the others about Sansa,” she said and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the Great Hall, where she knew they’d find the rest of their siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all very much for your support! And for those of you who have subscribed, I want, after thanking you again, to also tell you that I don't really have an updating schedule. I just write when I'm inspired and have time. Which means I might sometimes update pretty regularly (even two or three times within a week) and some other times... well... not so regularly! Thankfully for now I feel inspired!  
> Thank you all for reading!


	6. Theon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Let me know of your thoughts in the comments below! :)

**Sansa**

The sun of the early afternoon felt welcome on her face as Sansa, with Jeyne Poole at her side, stepped outside of the castle for the first time in days. Her friend was chatting excitedly about some new gossip she had heard in the kitchens that very morning, walking beside her with her arm linked through hers and making sure never to let Sansa out of her sight, per her mother’s command. Although not too long ago, Sansa would have jumped in the conversation, all she did now was listen uninterested as Jeyne kept talking, letting her thoughts wander to the only thing that plagued her mind these days. Jon and their impending union.

Two days ago, her lord father had announced to the whole family that the wedding would take place in a fortnight and all Sansa had wanted ever since was to spend some time alone with her betrothed and talk about it, but so far it had been impossible to even thank him for taking care of her after finding her in the Godswood. From the moment she had opened her eyes and Arya had gone to fetch their mother, Catelyn had been fussing over her, never letting her out of her sight, and so the only times she had seen Jon had been during their meals, in everyone’s presence -where her mother hadn’t even let her sit beside him, forcing them to only exchange glances- and during Jon’s sparring sessions with Robb and Theon.

Every afternoon Sansa would watch them from her window as they sparred, admiring Jon’s skills while he practiced against her brother and Theon. Often enough, one of the other two would notice her watching them and they would try to impress her. But Jon never had to try. He was always the best and every time he would catch her looking at him, he would just give her a soft smile and return back to fighting, while Sansa went back to sulking, due to her boredom.

Her mother had not let her go outside for ten days now, afraid that she would get sick again and Sansa, not wanting to worry her more than she already had, had regretfully obeyed, staying mostly in her chambers, until finally, that morning, Maester Luwin had deemed it safe for her to leave the warmth of the castle. And unbeknownst to her friend, Sansa had every intention to seize this opportunity to seek out Jon, away from Catelyn’s watchful eyes.

“… So what do you think?” Sansa was startled by her friend’s question, having missed everything else Jeyne had just said. Sensing Sansa’s confusion, the steward’s daughter gave her a bizarre look, as she stopped walking, bringing Sansa to a halt as well.

“About what?” Sansa asked, avoiding her friend’s eyes.

“About Theon,” Jeyne said as if that was supposed to clear things up for her. Well, it probably should, if Sansa had spent a moment to listen to anything Jeyne had just told her, instead of thinking where she would find Jon the whole time.

“What about Theon?”

“Do you think he likes me?” Jeyne asked, as Sansa stared blankly at her.

“I… I don’t know. What makes you think he likes you? Has he shown any interest?”

“Haven’t you been listening? Where is your mind?” Jeyne asked, but then, noticing Sansa’s reddening face, let the matter go.

“Well, as I was saying, Theon has been talking to me more so than usual. In the past, he would only wave at me or say hello to me, but the last few days he’s been more talkative.”

“And what do you talk about?”

“Well, mostly he’s been asking me about you and how you are doing, but I think he’s just doing it, because he wants to get close to me. I mean the normal thing would have been for him to ask Robb or the rest of your siblings about your health, not me. He’s much closer to them than he is to me and even though I’m your best friend, your siblings know about your health as much as I do. I have the feeling that he’s trying to find reasons to talk to me and I think it’s kind of sweet,” Jeyne said and the only thing Sansa could think was how not sweet Theon always seemed to her. The brothel stories she had heard from Robb alone were enough to destroy any positive thoughts she might have had for the Ironborn.

“I don’t know what to tell you. Just be careful. You know how Theon usually is. He’s always after some girl. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Sansa told her sincerely, but regretted it as she watched her friend’s face fall.

“Well, you could at least be a little more supportive,” Jeyne said angrily.

“I didn’t mean to sound unsupportive. It’s just I’ve never thought Theon to be the romantic type. I didn’t even know you liked Theon. Honestly, I just always thought you liked Robb,” Sansa defended herself.

“Robb isn’t going to ever marry the steward’s daughter, Sansa. You know it and I know it. So whatever crush I might have had on Robb is unimportant. Not everyone is like you. We don’t all get to marry princes.”

“Neither of us chose this, Jeyne. You know we’re doing it out of necessity. And besides, Jon is not a prince.”

“He might as well be. Targaryen blood runs through his veins and he’s the trueborn son of prince Rhaegar.”

“Jon is a Stark.”

“Please, Sansa. It’s me you’re talking to. I know the only reason you want to marry Jon is because of who his father was. You never liked Jon. You never even acknowledged his presence until his parentage was revealed and then as soon as you were able, you tried to seduce him and get him into your bed.”

“What are you talking about?” Sansa asked and looked scandalized.

“The maids in the kitchens gossip about more than just themselves,” Jeyne said smirking and Sansa could do nothing but gape at her.

“What have they been saying?” she asked with a trembling voice.

“Oh nothing, just that you got naked for him in the Godswood to seduce him and that’s why you got sick. Everyone saw you when you got back. They said you were clinging to him and then Father said that your mother caught you two in bed and that’s why Jon was forbidden from seeing you. The girls in the kitchens say that the reason Lord Eddard wants you two to marry so soon is because Jon has already taken your maidenhead and has dishonored you.”

“What? None of this is true,” Sansa yelled angrily at her.

“Jon and I never-”

“Oh, I know. Although, I do trust what Father said. But you know you’re going to have to do more than that to get Jon to want you. I heard him talking to Robb and Theon the other day about how he only sees you as his sister and I believe him. He even flirted with me on the day of your betrothal. Perhaps Jon isn’t the romantic type either. Well, at least when it comes to you.”

“Leave. I’ll continue the walk on my own,” Sansa told her furiously, as she tried not to cry.

“Lady Catelyn said I shouldn’t let you-”

“I don’t care what Mother said. I told you to leave me alone. Go find someone to gossip in the kitchens. It seems it’s the only thing you’re good at,” Sansa finally said and turned her back to what she thought of as her former friend and then headed towards the stables, hoping that she would find Jon there.

˜*˜

Sansa had been right to think Jon would be at the stables and the moment she saw him, she let a sigh of relief escape her lips. Jon was brushing his horse’s coat with his back turned to her, while Hodor and another stable boy were cleaning the stalls in the back. She would have preferred for them to be alone for this, but she knew that this was as good as it was going to get and after her talk with Jeyne, she was in dire need to speak with him.

After she gathered the courage to approach him, she started walking towards Jon, feeling her heart beating wildly inside her chest from nervousness, when suddenly and before she had a chance to announce her presence, two pups came running to her, jumping on her dress and making her shout in surprise. Immediately, Jon turned and looked at her in alarm, but as soon as he took in the scene, he just laughed in relief and ran to her side.

“Hey hey, calm down you two,” he said as he knelt down before her, trying to keep the two pups away from her dress.

“Sorry about that. They’re just excited to see you,” Jon told her then with a smile that lit up his whole face and Sansa, taking her eyes from Jon’s, looked at the two little pups that were squirming in his arms, trying to get to her. At once she realized that those were two of the direwolves she had been told appeared when she had gotten sick. She hadn’t had any time yet to meet them and play with them, since she spent most of her time inside her bedchambers, but she knew that one of the two wolves that were with Jon was supposed to be hers.

“That’s alright. They’re really cute,” she found herself saying and smiling back at Jon, for a moment forgetting about all the horrible things Jeyne had told her.

“Are you feeling alright? They finally let you out of your chambers?” he asked, as he smiled softly at her. He seemed happy to be talking to her and that kept a smile firmly on her face as well.

“Yes, Maester Luwin said it was safe for me to come outside.”

“I’m glad you’re well. I would have come to see you, but-”

“I know. Mother,” she interrupted him and Jon gave her a nod.

“Would you like to finally meet your wolf?” he asked her then, changing the subject, as his smile grew bigger. The light grey wolf had left his arms and was now trying to get her attention, rubbing its fur against her dress and her boots.

“Is this one mine?” she asked, kneeling to pet the pup.

“Aye… It’s a female, but we haven’t given her a name yet. We thought the appropriate thing would be for you to name her, given we all named ours.”

“She’s so beautiful,” she said as she continued petting the wolf.

“What is she like?” she asked then, turning her gaze back to Jon, who was still kneeling next to her, petting his own wolf.

“She’s the sweetest of them all, always looking for someone -mostly me- to pet her. She’s not as playful as the rest, but she’s very loving. She mostly likes to lie down, stay clean and look pretty. That much I’m certain of. She’s much like you in that regard, to be honest,” he told her and Sansa noticed his cheeks blushing.

“Oh, she’s pretty alright. Aren’t you? Are you a sweet little lady? I think that’s what I’ll call you. Lady,” she concluded and petted the direwolf’s head once more.

“What’s the name of your direwolf?” she asked then, turning her attention back to Jon and the albino wolf in his arms.

“Ghost,” he answered, looking proudly at the wolf.

“I think it suits him,” she said and smiled at him again.

“Thank you for taking care of Lady, while I was sick.”

“It’s the least I could do, since your lady mother wouldn’t let me anywhere near you. I want you to know that I wanted to be there for you. I really did,” he told her and his expression got serious again, as did Sansa’s.

“I know, it’s alright,” the redhead reassured him and paused, while she kept petting Lady.

“Jon, can I ask you a question?” Sansa needed to know how the rumors about her and Jon had started. She didn’t remember anything herself, but she didn’t take Vayon Poole for one to gossip lies either and if any of the things Jeyne had claimed had happened was true, she needed to know it.

“Sure,” Jon answered, but sounded uncertain, as they both stood up and let the wolves go and play with each other.

“It’s about the day you found me in the Godswood,” she clarified and at the sound of her words Jon looked uneasy.

“What about it?”

“What happened after you found me and took me to my chambers? I’ve been trying to remember, but everything is still fuzzy.”

“Why do you ask? Do you really not remember?” Jon asked and Jeyne’s words invaded her mind once more.

“Did something happen between us?” she asked him back instead of answering, determined to find out the truth, and if Jon’s furious blush was anything to go by, she was certain that something definitely had.

“There was a misunderstanding,” Jon started explaining, while he rubbed uncomfortably the back of his neck.

“Alright?”

“You were sick and you were really cold, so I got into your bed with you to help you get warm and then… you kissed me and Lady Stark saw us,” he admitted and Sansa let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Is that all?” she asked and she could not help how relieved she sounded, as she noticed Jon’s annoyance at her reaction.

“Isn’t that enough?” he asked and Sansa smirked at him.

“Trust me, it could be worse.”

“Sansa, ever since that happened Lady Stark has been glaring daggers at me. I haven’t stopped feeling humiliated by how she dragged me out of your bed in front of everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Well, not everyone, but there were people who witnessed it.”

“Jon, we’ll be married in less than a fortnight. You’re going to be my husband and share my bed every night. I’m sorry about what Mother did. She was out of line, but you need to let this unfortunate moment go,” Sansa said in an attempt to make him relax, but somehow she felt that her words had made him panic even more and the pleasant atmosphere from before was now gone.

“It’s not just Lady Stark, Sansa. This whole thing between us is really confusing for me,” he said and closed his eyes at his admission.

“It’s confusing for me too, but with time I know we’ll get over how odd this feels.”

“I don’t know, if I ever will,” Jon told her, looking at the ground and Sansa didn’t know what to say to that.

“Did you kiss me back?” she found herself asking then and Jon turned his gaze back to her.

“What?”

“You said I kissed you. Did you kiss me back? Did you enjoy our kiss?” she asked and looked at him with a hopeful expression on her face.

“No, I did not. I didn’t like it either,” he answered and Sansa felt like he had just punched her in the face.

“Why not?” she whispered and her voice trembled.

“You were delirious and you didn’t know what you were doing. If you were in your right mind, you wouldn’t have tried to kiss me and I wouldn’t have been yelled at because of it.”

“So you didn’t like it because of what Mother did afterwards?”

“No, it’s not that. Look, I know we’ll be married in a few days, but I’m not ready to be that intimate with you.”

“It was just a kiss.”

“I know that, but still… I told you, this whole thing feels too strange to me,” Jon said as he struggled to make her see things from his perspective.

“I understand. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Like you said I was delirious and didn’t know what I was doing. I’d probably kiss Theon in that state,” she said, choosing to jest, so that he wouldn’t see that her heart had dropped to her feet at his words. At that moment she knew that Jeyne had been right. Jon would never see her the way she hoped he would.

“Theon? What does Theon have to do with any of this?” Jon asked and Sansa was surprised by how irritated he sounded.

“Nothing. I was just jesting.”

“Has he tried anything with you?”

“What? Jon, no,” she answered, but Jon didn’t look convinced and clenched his jaw.

“Then why did you say his name of all people?”

“Who else did you want me to say? Robb? I have enough problems with one brother turned cousin as it is,” she tried to joke again, but Jon’s unimpressed look shut her up.

“I want you to stay away from him.”

“From Theon? I don’t really interact with him all that much.”

“Good. You should keep it that way,” he said and he looked serious.

“I… I think I’ll go inside now. I’ll see you at supper,” Sansa said then, ending their conversation, and Jon nodded. While she was walking away from him, she started thinking about his odd reaction, but then when she felt Lady joining her for her walk back to the castle, her mind drifted off to other things.

˜*˜

**Jon**

“Hey, where is your mind? You’re making this way too easy, Snow,” Robb teased him, as he helped him up from the ground. They had been sparring for a while now and Jon could not seem to do anything right.

“Let’s go again,” Jon said, getting into position.

“No, I’m tired and you’re not even trying. Is everything alright?” his brother asked and then left him to go sit on a bench at the edge of the courtyard. After a moment, Jon joined him as well, looking defeated.

“Everything is fine,” he answered as they sat next to each other.

“Aye, I can tell,” Robb said and smirked at him.

“Go on, tell me what’s wrong,” Robb insisted and bumped his shoulder into Jon’s playfully.

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

“Well, let me be the judge of that.”

“Do you… do you think Sansa likes Theon?” Jon asked and Robb just stared at him for a while, before he burst out laughing.

“What? What are you talking about? How did you even get that idea?”

“I knew I shouldn’t tell you anything.”

“No, please. I’m sorry I laughed. Tell me why you ask,” Robb told him, trying to keep a straight face, as Jon glared at him.

“I saw her today and we talked about the kiss.”

“And where did Theon fit in that conversation?” Robb asked him confused.

“Sansa agreed that she was delirious when she kissed me -in fact she didn’t even remember it- and she told me that she could just as easily have kissed Theon instead,” Jon said and he couldn’t mask how annoyed he was by the fact.

“Is that all?”

“What do you mean is that all? Everyone has got to stop saying that to me. I’m not overreacting,” Jon defended himself and sounded angry.

“Clearly,” Robb said and smirked again.

“You don’t need to worry about it. There’s nothing there. Besides, I don’t even know why you care. You don’t even like Sansa in that way. It was just the other day that you told us you only see her as your sister. Even if she liked Theon, I don’t see why you should have a problem with it.”

“I know what I said and I do only see her as my sister, but that doesn’t mean I want Theon to get any ideas that he can try anything with her. In less than a fortnight Sansa is going to be my wife.”

“So, you’re planning to make her your wife for real?”

“What? No, Robb. You know what I mean.”

“So, she’s not allowed to ever have an actual relationship then,” Robb said and Jon could hear the accusation in his brother’s voice.

“When she agreed to marry me, she knew what she was giving up. I asked her to reconsider. I told her that we would find another way, but she didn’t want to hear any of that. She still wanted to marry me, so when we do, I expect her to stay faithful to me, the same way I’m going to stay faithful to her.”

“But she didn’t. Not really. Sansa is not even fourteen. She didn’t really know what she was giving up. She’s a young girl with no experiences. Maybe _you_ knew what you were giving up, but not her. You were even thinking of joining the Night’s Watch before everything happened, which means you never really had a problem with living a celibate life. But Sansa always dreamed of having a husband and babes and now she is sacrificing that dream for you, because she loves you and cares about what happens to you. Would it really be that terrible, if she could find someone to love her the way a lover does?”

“Yes it would. She’s going to be my wife.”

“I never took you for the possessive type.”

“I’m not possessive,” Jon argued, but when he met Robb’s eyes he stopped talking and averted his gaze to the ground. After that, they remained silent for what seemed like forever, until Jon finally heard Robb sigh deeply.

“What’s the matter?” he asked him.

“I’m just thinking whether I should tell you or not.”

“Tell me what?” Jon asked, his interest peaked.

“I promised her that I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t see how else I’m going to save you from acting like an arse to her,” Robb said and Jon waited expectantly for his brother to continue, without uttering a word.

“Sansa is in love with you,” Robb blurted out.

“That’s why she agreed to marry you. She did it, because she loves you,” he went on, as Jon kept looking at him with wide eyes.

“Are you jesting?”

“No, Jon. I’m not. I’m breaking her trust here by telling you this. So, now you can understand why your fears about Theon sounded so ridiculous to me earlier.”

“How… I… I don’t-”

“Trust me, I know. I’ve been trying to stomach this ever since she told me, but then she got sick and I thought she was going to die and I found myself not caring anymore. I only wished for her to get well, even if it meant that I would start seeing you kissing and holding hands or whatever,” Robb said and sounded defeated at his admission.

“The only reason I’m telling you this is because I don’t want you to hurt her. I know you don’t see her that way, but Sansa does, so I’m asking you to be gentle with her and stop worrying about imaginary things.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything and especially to her. I don’t want her to know that I told you,” Robb warned him and then got up from his seat.

“Supper will be served soon. We’d better get cleaned up,” he added and after resting his hand on Jon’s shoulder for a moment, he walked away, leaving Jon frozen in place and alone with his thoughts.

_She is in love with me. Sansa is in love with me_ , he kept thinking and suddenly all he wanted to do was to hit himself for his stupidity. It all made sense now. Everything she had told him in her delirious state. It all made sense. He should have known better. He should have understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to avoid confusion, in this fic everyone is supposed to be approximately the same age they were meant to be during the first season of GoT. I'm not following the book ages of the characters.


	7. What Is The Truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone!  
> Let me know what you think! xoxo

**Sansa**

It was late and almost everyone had gathered at the Great Hall for supper. Earlier that day the servants had started preparing the Hall for the guests that were soon expected to arrive for the wedding, bringing in more tables and even more candles to light up the space, as if this was an ordinary feast at Winterfell. But all Sansa could think, while her gaze travelled through the room, was how life changing it was going to be for her and how their very survival was dependent on how it was going to go.

Even though the wedding was still days away -a little less than a fortnight- they had already received ravens informing them of most of the Northern lords arrivals, since her father had sent them ravens before he had actually told the rest of the family. Representatives of both House Cerwyn and House Glover were expected to arrive in three to four days, while the rest Houses of the North, as well as the Tullys from the Riverlands –her lady mother’s House- would come within the next five to ten days.

Their acceptance to attend the wedding was a good first step, but the time they would spend as their guests would determine how united the North truly was and how loyal the other Houses were to House Stark. For that reason, every last person within the castle was trying their best to have everything ready for everyone’s arrival and all day they had all looked on edge, preparing the castle’s chambers, sweeping and cleaning furiously, as if a cleaner and more comfortable room would change the lords’ minds about Jon and the rest of the Starks.

When Sansa had entered the Hall, Jeyne had already been sitting at her usual spot and Sansa had tried hard not to glare at her, as she had moved past her and had taken a seat next to her little brother, Bran, who in turn was sitting next to Arya and Rickon. Jeyne, on her part, had tried to act like she didn’t care, but her mother’s gaze between the two of them hadn’t gone unnoticed to Sansa. Her mother had most definitely figured out that there was something wrong between them and Sansa was certain that she was planning to have a talk with her after supper.

A few moments later, and while Sansa was listening to her younger siblings fighting over whose direwolf was the fastest, Robb entered the Hall with Jon at his side. Sansa expected Robb to come and sit next to her in the empty seat between her and Theon, but when her brother and Jon’s gaze found her, they both stopped in their tracks and looked momentarily towards the Ironborn. Robb then exchanged a look with Jon, while murmuring something close to his ear and with a pat on her betrothed’s back went to sit next to Jory Cassel who was conversing with their father. Jon, on the other hand, after exchanging another awkward look with Robb and looking uncertainly towards her mother, came and took the seat next to her.

“My Lady,” he said to her and smiled, the moment he sat down. Sansa found herself unable to say anything and started blushing as she felt all voices die down around them. She was aware that everyone was looking at them, but soon she forced herself to relax and actually respond to him.

“Jon! How did the training go?” she asked and when she looked around her again, everyone acted like they hadn’t just been staring at them and started talking again.

“You didn’t watch?” he asked with a smile.

“No, I was at the library with Septa and Arya,” she answered with a faint blush on her cheeks. She knew that Jon was aware of her often watching them spar, but she felt a little embarrassed when he actually asked her about it.

“It went well,” he answered.

“Liar, Robb told me that he beat you every time,” came suddenly Bran’s voice, surprising her, as both Arya and Rickon started laughing on Bran’s other side.

“He was just lucky,” Jon defended himself, looking a little annoyed. Sansa could not help the smile that spread on her face at his reaction.

“He said you fell on the ground three times,” Bran added and the other two broke into a fit of laughter once more.

“I just let him see what it feels like to win from time to time,” Jon said as he watched their siblings laugh, trying to suppress a smile of his own.

“When I get older I’ll beat you too,” came Rickon’s voice then.

“Of course you will. I’m sure you’ll be much better than Robb,” Jon told their little brother and all of them started laughing again. Sansa chanced a look towards Robb then and she saw him watching them, but by the confused expression on his face she knew he couldn’t have heard them and that made her giggle as well. When she looked back at Jon, she found him staring at her and she felt unable to look away from his eyes.

“Has Theon ever beaten you?” Arya asked then, pulling them out of their trance.

“Yeah, right! He wishes,” Jon answered, before he heard a snort coming from Theon and turned to look at him.

“Am I wrong? Have you ever beaten me?” he asked and Sansa felt herself tense at the tone of his voice, remembering their earlier conversation and how Jon had asked her to stay away from the Ironborn, when his name had come up. Did Jon really dislike Theon that much or had he actually gotten a little jealous when she had tried to jest about him? She’d never know.

Jon had never seemed to get along with Theon. Even when she hadn’t been paying much attention to either of them, she had noticed that they were always fighting over Robb and who was actually his favorite. Well, Theon was the one fighting, because the answer had always been obvious to both Jon and Sansa, as well as to everyone else. Robb and Jon had been as thick as thieves ever since they were mere babes and the bond between the two had never weakened. Jon was clearly Robb’s best friend and favorite sibling out of all of them, even if Arya often complained that Robb always took Sansa’s side on everything because he loved her the most. Sansa, however, knew that it was different. She was a girl and she could never have the same bond Jon had with Robb. But it was the love he had for her she had relied on for Robb’s eventual acceptance and forgiveness, when she had lied to him about her feelings for Jon.

“You think I can’t beat you?” Theon asked irritated.

“I don’t think. I know you can’t,” Jon answered smugly.

“Why? Because you’re a dragon now? Is that it?” Theon asked a little loudly and Sansa looked around to find everyone watching the two of them.

“No, that’s not it. I’ve always been who I am now and if you couldn’t beat me before, when I was much smaller than you, you definitely won’t beat me now that we’re equal in strength, because I’m a much better swordsman than you are and you know it.”

“Is that what you think? That you’re a better swordsman? How about we take it outside and see who the better swordsman really is?” Theon retorted, as he got up from his seat, glaring at Jon. Sansa looked around her anxiously for help then, but the moment she met Robb’s eyes, he looked at her like she was the one who should do something. So, when she felt Jon rising beside her, without thinking, she put both her hands on his arm and kept him firmly in his place, until Jon turned to look at her surprised.

“Shall we eat? The food is getting cold,” she said sweetly, with her hands still holding onto his arm. She saw Jon swallow a lump in his throat, but then he quickly nodded, without ever sparing another glance towards Theon, who was now standing awkwardly next to him.

“Theon?” she asked, turning her gaze to the Ironborn, only to notice that his cheeks had turned red, probably from embarrassment.

“My Lady,” was the only thing he said in return, before he too sat back down on his seat and everyone else resumed eating and talking, acting as if nothing had happened. Jeyne was the only one who kept staring or more accurately glaring at her, but Sansa wouldn’t let that upset her. She was feeling oddly proud of herself at that moment.

She never thought that she had the power to make them actually listen to her, but more importantly she felt happy of the fact that Jon didn’t seem to question her hold on his arm, but let her touch him until she was the one who decided to let go. She now vaguely remembered the time when he had snatched his hand out of her own and had refused to meet her eyes or talk to her, the night her lord father had announced their betrothal. Although that was not that long ago, their relationship was clearly already starting to change and evolve and that gave her great courage for the future.

˜*˜

After supper and after both their parents had retreated in their father’s solar to check on the castle’s books of account with Vayon Poole and Maester Luwin, probably to estimate what the wedding was going to cost them, all the children found themselves sitting by the fire that was still burning in the Great Hall’s hearth and playing with their wolves.

Sansa was sitting on the floor between her two younger brothers with Lady on her lap, while Arya was sitting next to Jon across from them, with Robb and Theon on her other side. It was only Jeyne that was missing. Usually Jeyne would sit by Sansa’s side and they would both ignore everyone else, while they talked amongst themselves. But tonight was different. Sansa’s glare at the end of supper had made it clear to Jeyne that she wasn’t welcome to join them as usual and the steward’s daughter with an irritated huff of breath had left with the rest, while the servants had started clearing the table.

“Where’s Jeyne?” came suddenly Robb’s voice, pulling her from her thoughts. Of course it’d be Robb the one to notice. Even though Jeyne had been right to say that someone like Robb would never marry someone like her, Sansa knew that her brother liked Jeyne and thought she was pretty. She often found him looking at her.

“I don’t know. I’m not her keeper,” Sansa said without realizing how irritated she sounded. Everyone then turned to look at her puzzled, and it felt like the direwolves did the exact same thing.

“Really? You two are always attached at the hip,” Arya commented, raising an eyebrow at Sansa.

“Did something happen?” Robb asked again and Sansa’s irritation grew.

“No. Nothing happened. Why are you asking me all these questions? I just don’t know where she is,” Sansa defended herself and immediately she knew from the way everyone kept looking at her that no one believed her. Feeling heat coloring her cheeks, she turned her gaze back down to Lady and started petting her in an attempt to put an end to the conversation.

“I just thought it’d be nice for her to join us. It’s been a while since we all hung out together, with you being sick and all,” Robb said, but Sansa kept ignoring him and looking at Lady, until suddenly Jon’s wolf came in her view as he tried to climb on her lap as well. Sansa, looking into the wolf’s red eyes, felt like the reason he had come to her was because he wanted to comfort her.

“Look, Ghost likes Sansa,” came Rickon’s excited voice from beside her then, as he tried to reach the albino wolf and pet him. The animal, however, recoiled from his touch and then made a whining noise, turning his eyes back to Sansa, like he was asking her to make room on her lap for him. Sansa immediately obliged and both animals curled happily next to each other.

“He doesn’t like Sansa, you silly. He just wants to play with Lady. The two of them have been inseparable, because Jon was the one looking after both of them,” Arya said from her spot next to Jon, holding onto her own wolf, Nymeria. Sansa could feel Jon’s eyes on her, but she tried to avoid them. Her sister sounded annoyed by the fact and Sansa realized that it was probably because Ghost had never done anything like that with her and the thought gave her some satisfaction.

“You know he hasn’t let any of us pet him, right? And now he just goes to Sansa willingly like that?” Bran was the next one to speak.

“Maybe he likes Sansa, because she’s Jon’s girl,” Rickon said and Sansa heard Robb snort at the comment. When she raised her eyes to look at him, she also saw Jon glaring daggers at their brother, while Robb tried to hide his snicker behind his hand.

“Ew… Sansa is not Jon’s girl, you idiot. This marriage is a sham. They’re brother and sister,” Arya cut him off, sounding disgusted.

“Stop calling me names. I’ll tell Mother… And you’re wrong! They’ll be married and they’ll be sleeping together, like Mother and Father. Maester Luwin told me so,” Rickon argued back and he sounded a lot more irritated than Arya did.

“Perhaps we should all go to bed. It’s getting late,” Jon finally spoke for the first time and Sansa found herself staring into his eyes while he did the same.

“Oh no, please. I enjoy this conversation way too much,” Theon said, bringing both of them out of their trance, as he started laughing, only to receive a glare from everyone in the room.

“Rickon is right! I too heard Vayon Poole talking with two servant girls about moving Jon’s things to Sansa’s chambers for the wedding. After the wedding they’ll be sleeping in her bedchambers,” Bran came to his little brother’s defense. Rickon was still very young to understand everything that was happening, but Sansa was curious to know how Bran felt about all of this. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him yet and she didn’t know if Jon had either.

“That’s because there will be people here and they can’t know that it’s a farce. They need to believe it’s real or they won’t support us. When they leave, Jon will move back to his own chambers. Sansa and Jon don’t love each other like that,” Arya was the one to talk again, as if Jon and Sansa weren’t in the room to defend themselves. And at the sound of her words, Sansa felt her heart beat faster inside her chest, as she remembered her lie to Robb.

“No no… you’re lying! Father told me that he and Mother were the same and then they had Robb and they fell in love and had all of us,” Rickon insisted and Sansa felt her face turning red again, as her eyes locked with Robb’s and then with Jon’s. Jon who was looking at her, as if somehow he knew.

“He said that if they were married to each other, none of them would have to move away and we could all stay here,” Rickon yelled at his sister and Sansa immediately realized the root of the problem.

Sansa was a woman flowered now and Rickon had heard her many times talking with Jeyne about wanting to marry a lord in the south and finally leave Winterfell. And if she knew about Jon’s previous plans of joining the Night’s Watch, she was certain that so did Rickon. In the little boy’s mind, this marriage was the only way to keep them both here and prevent them from abandoning him.

“When Sansa has Jon’s babe, she will love him too and so will Jon,” her little brother added and Arya looked ready to say something in return, but Rickon’s direwolf, Shaggydog, growled at her and she shut her mouth. Sansa could do nothing more but sit there frozen, the mention of the babe making her uncomfortable. If only Rickon was right. But she would never have one. Jon would never see her like that to give her one.

“That’s enough! All of you to bed,” Jon shouted then, getting up from the floor. Sansa could see how upset the conversation had made him, so she pulled herself together and decided to help him.

“Jon is right! Mother will be angry with us, if we don’t go to bed soon. Besides, I’m already tired and I want to sleep. I’m not used to staying up this late. I’m still a little weak.”

“Sansa, will you put me to bed?” Rickon asked her sweetly then, but Robb answered before she could say anything.

“I will. You heard her. She’s tired,” he said and then turned to Jon.

“Jon, why don’t you escort Sansa back to her chambers?”

“I…” Jon started to say, losing his words, when Theon cut him off.

“I can do that,” he said, taking a step closer, ready to be of service, until suddenly Jon’s hand moved to his chest, pushing him backwards.

“I will,” he said and his voice left no room for arguments.

Sansa was startled once more by his behavior, but said nothing as Jon came to her side and offered his arm for her to hold onto and she awkwardly accepted. If their siblings looked at them strangely when she did, she didn’t want to know, so she avoided to look at everyone’s faces, and especially Robb’s, as they left the Hall together, their two wolves following behind them.  

˜*˜

**Jon**

The way to Sansa’s chambers seemed to be the longest of Jon’s life.  Sansa’s arm was burning, linked through his own and all he could think about with every step they took together was Rickon’s words of them having a babe and Robb’s words, telling him that Sansa was already in love with him.

When they reached Sansa’s door, Sansa removed her arm hesitantly from his own and stared at him with her Tully blue eyes.

“So, this is me,” she said awkwardly, biting on her lower lip.

“Goodnight, Jon,” she added, when Jon told her nothing in return and moved to open her chamber’s door.

“Wait, Sansa… I… I need to talk to you,” he blurted out and immediately regretted it when she turned to look at him again.

“Can’t it wait ‘till tomorrow?” she asked, but Jon realized right then that it really couldn’t. If they didn’t talk about this now, he was certainly going to lose his mind during the night. Robb had asked him not to say anything, but Jon couldn’t keep living wondering about this. He needed to hear her say it herself.

“No, it really can’t. Can I come inside for a moment?” he asked and the moment the words came out of his mouth, he chastised himself for his stupidity. Of course he couldn’t go into Sansa’s bedchambers and especially now that it was night.

“Or we could just talk right here,” he hurried to say.

“No, let’s go inside. We’ll be more comfortable,” she answered and all Jon could think as he followed her inside, along with Ghost and Lady, was that if Lady Stark were to catch them again, this time she would certainly cut his head off.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” she asked as soon as she closed the door and sat at the edge of her bed. Jon couldn’t find himself to sit anywhere. He was too nervous to sit, so he just stood in front of her.

“Why did you agree to marry me?” he asked and Sansa stared at him.

“Why are you asking me this? We’ve talked about this,” she replied and averted her gaze to look at the floor.

“I know we have, but due to some recent events, I’ve come to believe that maybe you lied to me.”

“Jon, I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’m really tired-”

“Robb told me. Is it true?” he asked her, as she turned her terrified eyes back to him.

“What did Robb tell you?” she asked and Jon could see it in her eyes that Sansa knew exactly what he was talking about. _So, it was true then._

“He said that you agreed to this wedding, because you were already in love with me.”

A few moments of silence passed and Sansa was left gaping at him the whole time. She tried to open and close her mouth a few times, but words wouldn’t come out of her lips. It was all the answer he needed, so he decided to go. Robb had told him the truth and Jon didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about it and looking at her in this state of distress wasn’t helping either of them.

“I should go! Goodnight, Sansa,” he said then, but as he turned to leave, he suddenly felt her hand on his arm.

“Wait, Jon. I’m sorry… I… you don’t understand-” Sansa tried to explain, but Jon cut her off again.

“I understand just fine. I just- I need some time to process this. I don’t know how I feel about this. Why… how-”

“I lied to him!” she said and stopped his mumbling. Jon just stared at her.

“He wasn’t going to let us do this. You know I’m right! So, I thought that if he didn’t think I was sacrificing myself, he’d let us do it. Everything I’ve told you is the truth. I only lied to Robb… Jon, you can’t tell him. He’ll get mad at me and he’ll try to sabotage this again,” she pleaded and Jon couldn’t understand for the life of him why she wanted this marriage to happen so badly.

“Maybe he should,” Jon said in return and she looked horrified.

“Robb opened my eyes today to some other things that I hadn’t thought before. You haven’t thought this through. You don’t understand what you’re giving up.”

“I know what I’m giving up and I don’t care,” she said, looking down, her hand still clutching his arm.

“Do you, really? ‘Cause I saw how you looked, when Rickon talked about us having a babe. It’s something you want. It’s something you’ve always wanted and you can’t have it with me.”

“Please, Jon. Don’t do this… Why are we having this conversation again? Nothing has changed. I want to marry you and you agreed. You can’t take it back. We’re already betrothed. Everyone knows and everyone is coming for the wedding. You will humiliate me, if you do this. Please-” she said and Jon could see tears in her eyes.

“Why are you crying?” he asked and took her face in his hands.

“I’m not crying,” she said stubbornly as a tear rolled down her cheek. Jon simply smiled at her and wiped the tear away with his thumb.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked her again.

“I’m sure,” Sansa replied staring into his eyes once more.

“Even if it means you’ll never have a lover? Never have a babe?” he asked and he saw a flicker of pain cross her eyes at the mention of a babe, but she stubbornly said yes again.

“Then I promise you I’ll never do anything to humiliate you and I won’t tell Robb either,” he promised, before he gathered her in his arms and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you, Jon,” she answered, as she nestled her head in the crook of his neck, while Jon hugged her closer. He was committed now. There was no turning back. He had promised her. He only wished he knew, if everything she had just told him was true or if she was simply lying to herself about what she really wanted.

_“…I want to love you and for you to love me. I want to have a family with you,”_ Sansa’s words flooded his mind, but he quickly pushed them back and buried the memory.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify for those of you wondering, nothing will actually happen between Sansa and Theon. I'm just using him to get Jon jealous. Theon's feelings, whatever they might be, don't matter. There is a reason there is only a Jon/Sansa tag. There will be people that will try to get between them in future chapters, but none of them will succeed and neither Sansa nor Jon will be unfaithful to the other. As for other couples, the reason I'm not tagging them is because they'll be seen only through Sansa and Jon's povs and they're secondary and not as important. This is all about Jon and Sansa.


	8. The Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter! I hope you enjoy! Thanks to everyone reading and commenting! :-)

**Sansa**

Sansa was staring at her wedding dress through the looking glass, running her fingers over the fine details she and her mother had carefully embroidered on the fabric. It was the finest thing she had ever worn, made out of pure white silk. Far better than anything she had ever dreamed of wearing at her wedding, even when she had been dreaming of marrying a prince. The best gift she had ever gotten from her mother or anyone else for that matter.

Her mother had come to her -when Sansa had still been recovering from her illness, a day after her lord father had announced the date of the wedding- carrying a large piece of fabric. Catelyn had had tears in her eyes, she remembered, as she had sat down next to her bed and then, she had told her that even though she had wanted the day of her first daughter’s wedding to happen under different circumstances and for it to be a joyous event instead of the farce this was going to be, she had still wanted her to look as beautiful as possible. So, afterwards, she had begun making her the gown, until Sansa had been well enough to join her and help her finish it.

Sansa knew that her mother was never going to accept this marriage, but she would always cherish in her heart the moments they had spent together making this dress. She understood how hard this was for everyone and most of all how difficult this was going to be for her and Jon and she often had her doubts about it. What if this was a huge mistake? Could they ever make this work? What if it was all for nothing?

 _“This is the only way… I’ve lived and seen every outcome. You have to marry him to save everyone,”_ a voice whispered in her mind, putting a stop to her nervous thinking. She had no idea where she had heard that from. It felt as if it was an old dream she had once had, but the details were blurry. She never remembered to whom the voice belonged to or when she had first heard it, but every time the voice had come to her mind, it had given her peace and renewed courage, making her believe in her decision. From the moment her father had asked her to marry Jon, to the time she had lied to Robb to stop him from ruining everything, to the last day she had had to convince Jon not to back out, and finally now. Maybe it was her conscience trying to help her come to terms with what she had already decided, or perhaps the Old Gods were guiding her to the right direction. She’d never know. But she trusted her instincts and now they were telling her that marrying Jon was the right thing to do.

A knock on the door was what pulled her out of her inner rambling.

“Come in,” she called and then she watched as the door slowly opened to reveal her brother.

“Seven Gods! You look beautiful, Sansa,” Robb said as he took her in and Sansa gave him a smile, knowing his reaction was a genuine one. She could only hope Jon shared his opinion.

She was aware of how beautiful her gown was, but when she had tried to make the rest of her look appealing, she had had a hard time deciding what the better way to wear her hair would be. In the end, she had decided to just let it down, remembering a time she had heard Jon talking with Robb and Theon and telling them how he disliked the way the girls wore their hair in the south and how he preferred them long and free to the touch. Even though she was certain that he had never touched a girl’s hair before, and she wasn’t sure where Jon had even seen these strange hairstyles he had described. Maybe in one of their father’s trips to White Harbor that he and Robb had attended and that she had never been allowed to make herself, as it had been deemed dangerous for a girl of her age.

“It’s time. Are you ready?” he asked, pulling her once more from her thoughts.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered and then took his offered arm.

“If you want, we can still stop this. You don’t have to go through with this.”

“Robb…” she said and the tone of her voice made him give her a bitter smile.

“I know, you love him. It’s just me who desperately wants to stop this madness,” he admitted and sighed.

“Robb, it’s going to be alright,” she said, the voice running through her mind again, giving her hope and courage.

“Just know that I’m here for you, if you change your mind. I’ll grab you and we’ll run,” he offered and it made them both giggle.

“I know. I’m always counting on you. You’re my knight in shining armor. But I’m doing this for Jon. I can’t just abandon him. I know you’re worried about him too and you want him to be safe.”

“I do,” Robb admitted, lowering his eyes to the ground.

“Then let’s go! Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Let’s go,” Robb agreed reluctantly as he guided her out of her chambers. The next time she would walk through this door, it would be as a married woman.

˜*˜

**Jon**

Jon felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest, while he waited under the heart tree for Sansa to arrive and the ceremony to begin. As the night sky loomed ominous above him, he could sense everyone’s gaze on him and hear the whispering. Even if he couldn’t, he remembered how they had all regarded him with distrust from the moment they had arrived and had called him a bastard dragon behind his back and sometimes even to his face, when his father had not been not around to hear them. How they had thought Ned was making a mistake to give away his precious daughter to him and how some of them had begged him to reconsider and give Jon over to Robert, and marry Sansa off to one of their own, to strengthen their alliance.

“Jon, relax. Stop brooding so much. You’re about to get married,” came uncle Benjen’s voice from beside him. At least he was glad his uncle was here and he would stay by his side until the ceremony was over. Even though he was a brother of the Night’s Watch, they had all agreed that he should be the one to officiate the wedding on Jon’s side, as his closest relative, since Ned would be the one to give Sansa away.

“Oh, here she comes,” Benjen said suddenly, and Jon, lifting his eyes off the ground for the first time in a while, watched as Sansa, letting go of Robb’s arm -who had escorted her here from her chambers- was given a cloak by Lady Stark and then linked her arm through their father’s, before they both started heading their way, passing between the lit up lanterns on either side of them.

From the very moment he saw her, she took his breath away by how beautiful she looked and Jon couldn’t help but stare. This was a moment he had dreamed of many times. To someday wed a beautiful woman in front of Winterfell’s heart tree, with his family as witnesses. But Sansa was part of that family and Jon didn’t know how to feel and what to make of the fact he got excited when he saw her. Sansa had never been a part of his dream and yet she was the best thing he could have ever asked for. If only she wasn’t his sister.

The wolves had not been allowed in the Godswood during the ceremony, but Jon could now hear them clearly howling through the night’s silence, as if they knew what was about to happen and they were mourning or celebrating- he couldn’t tell. When Sansa was finally in front of him, however, all the noise stopped. The whispering, the howling- it was as if they were the only two people left in the Godswood, as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” his uncle’s voice pulled him out of his trance.

“Sansa, of House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” his father answered and then turned his eyes to him.

“Me, Jon Snow,” Jon began to answer, after an uncomfortable pause, what he and his father had agreed upon for him to say, his name rolling awkwardly off his tongue.

“…her cousin by blood, always and forever loyal to House Stark. I claim her. Who gives her?”

“Eddard of House Stark, her father, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North,” his father replied once more, never taking his eyes off him.

“Lady Sansa, will you take this man?” uncle Benjen asked then and Jon moved his eyes back to Sansa’s.

“I take this man,” Sansa replied with certainty, staring into his eyes, until Ned took her hand and placed it in Jon’s. Then, with joined hands, they both knelt under the heart tree, right where Jon had found her lying all those days ago, with the direwolf pups all around her. Right under the weirwood’s carved face, where they now both bowed their heads in submission and silent prayer, asking for the Gods’ blessing, but in Jon’s case, asking mostly for their forgiveness.

“Jon Snow, here in front of the Gods, do you agree to take your bride’s name, that of House Stark, renouncing all previous titles and names you might have had, passing the name Stark to all of your future children?” uncle Benjen asked then, while he and Sansa were still kneeling in front of the weirwood tree.

“I agree,” Jon answered, fighting the lump that was stuck in his throat. He had waited all his life to be called a Stark and he couldn’t believe the way by which he had actually accomplished it. He didn’t know, if he should be feeling happy or ashamed.

“Then, you may both rise as Sansa and Jon Stark and then you may bring your bride under your protection,” Benjen finished and they both rose, Sansa’s hand still clutching his, until Arya and Bran came to his side, offering him the cloak he was meant to place on his bride’s shoulders.

Sansa, removing her hand from his own, chanced a look in his eyes and then carefully undid the cloak Lady Catelyn had given her, the moment she and Robb had arrived. The cloak was made of white wool and white fur and it was embroidered with two small sigils on either side of the fabric. On the outside, a small grey direwolf for her father’s House and on the inside, the sigil of House Tully, that of her lady mother’s. In its place -and after taking it from his siblings’ hands- Jon fastened a white wool cloak bordered in grey fur, with a big grey direwolf embroidered at the center. He too was a Stark now and he could give her the cloak of the House he chose to be a part of. He wasn’t a Snow anymore, and he most certainly wasn’t a Targaryen.

˜*˜

Jon downed his twelfth cup of wine as he watched unimpressed people dancing about the hall, laughing and drinking. They all acted like this was an ordinary feast, so he had to try his best to match their high spirits. The wine and ale were affluent and the music and singing loud. It seemed as if everyone had forgotten why all of this was happening, why they were here. The danger they were all in. The King’s words nothing but empty threats. Although they weren’t. Not really. Those threats were nothing close to empty. If King Robert didn’t have the Lannisters to deal with, they’d be already facing the consequences. But the Lannisters weren’t going to last forever as the thing that kept him from coming North with all his forces to demand Jon’s head on a spike. The lions were losing the war and sooner rather than later, his family would have to deal with whatever that meant for them. _His family_. _His wife_. He was a Stark too now and this was the saddest day of his pathetic life.

As he poured more wine from the nearest pitcher, he felt a strong pat on the back and almost dropped his cup on the table.

“Hey,” a voice said. Jon turned his head slowly and saw Robb watching him through blurry eyes. His brother had a strange look on his face.

“Hey, yourself,” Jon replied, slurring the words from all the drinking, before he brought the cup back to his lips.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Robb asked, trying to mask his anger. Drunk or not, however, Jon knew him too well. Robb was clearly furious with him.

“I’m just trying to have a good time, Robb. Besides, this is my wedding feast. I think I’m entitled to drink as much as I want. I’m only enjoying myself,” he said and downed another gulp of wine.

“If you want to enjoy yourself, go dance with your wife instead of drinking Winterfell’s whole wine supply. You’ve been here by yourself all night and she has danced with everyone but you. We’re trying to make a good impression on the other Houses, trying to make _you_ look good in their eyes, so that they support you, and you’re just sitting here, getting drunk,” Robb told him in an accusatory tone and Jon dragging his tired and blurry eyes back to where people were dancing in the middle of the Great Hall, found Sansa changing dance partners and starting a dance with Theon.

“I think she’s doing fine. She has Theon,” Jon commented as he pointed with the hand still holding the cup towards the couple dancing in the distance.

“No good would come from me dancing anyway. I’m as clumsy as they come,” he said and then finished his cup with one long sip.

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Robb retorted through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, well… Today has been nothing if not embarrassing for me. A few more drinks can’t hurt.”

“What about Sansa? You’re embarrassing her too. Don’t you care about that?”

“Why would I care about embarrassing Sansa? I’m sure she feels just as humiliated without my help. She just got wed to her bastard brother in front of the entire North. If she wasn’t as uptight as she is, she would be up here drinking with me.”

“How dare you? After everything I told you!” Robb yelled furiously. Luckily the voices and the music were too loud to get anyone’s attention. Not that he really cared in the state he was in. Besides, they were all probably as drunk as he was.

“Oh, yeah… the secret about Sansa’s feelings for me,” Jon said and then snorted in laughter as he brought his hand to his face and supported his head, leaning heavily on the table.

“This is a laughing matter to you?” Robb asked enraged and Jon only laughed harder.

“I suppose now that we’re already husband and wife, it doesn’t really matter, if you know or not,” he said and looked again for the pitcher, but when he tried to take it, Robb pulled it out of his reach.

“What are you talking about?” his brother asked and Jon rolled his eyes at him.

“Sansa lied to you, Robb. She told me so herself. She was just trying to get you off our backs. She doesn’t love me. I’m only the half-brother she always liked to call me.”

“She said that to you? She said she lied?” Robb asked, his anger suddenly replaced with shock.

“Yeah! Pretty much. Now, can I have my pitcher back please?” Jon asked, slurring his words again, but Robb, instead of giving it back, filled both their cups and then downed his in one big gulp, making Jon laugh, before the latter took his own cup to drink.

“To my beautiful bride,” he said, raising his cup in the air, still laughing, before taking a long sip of his drink as well. Although no one had seemed to be paying them any attention until now, his action caused a few heads to turn their way and then, a fat man Jon thought was Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor, stood from his seat to make a speech.

“Lord Stark,” he called, looking towards his father, who had just been dancing with Lady Catelyn, not too far from where Sansa and Theon were. Slowly, the dancing stopped and the music and voices died down, as everyone turned to look at the man.

“It’s been a lovely ceremony and a lovely feast. But I think it’s time we moved to the next part of the night. The bedding,” Lord Manderly said and the whispering started again. Jon could feel the blood drain from his face and when his eyes found Sansa, he saw that she mirrored his reaction, with how pale she looked and with her fists balled at her sides. Jon could feel his own knuckles turning white from the way he was clutching the tablecloth.

“We understand how strange this situation is, with your daughter and nephew having been raised as half-siblings until recently, if we are to believe that no other member of your family knew anything about this, and I’m sure Jon is a good lad and all, worthy of our protection,” he went on, while all the members of his family were now looking uncomfortably at each other.

“…But naming him a Stark in the Godswood and avoiding to bring up his Targaryen name during the ceremony doesn’t make it so. House Manderly has been loyal to House Stark for hundreds of years and this is the only reason we accepted to bring our men into this war against the King himself. Another war started because of a Targaryen, like the one that cost hundreds of our kin’s lives. I know Jon is innocent of the crimes of his father, but if we are all going to act as if it is a Stark we’re protecting here and we’re risking our lives for and not a Targaryen, we need to have our assurances. We need to know that this wedding is not a sham and it’s going to be a fruitful one. We need to know where this boy’s loyalties truly lie. Who he truly considers his family.”

“Lord Manderly, forgive me, but I don’t understand why you would doubt that. Jon has never known another family, but our own. Even without the wedding, he shares a deep bond with every member of this family and Stark blood runs through his veins,” his father said then, interrupting him.

“Word has reached our shores of a Targaryen Queen in the East, sister to the late Prince Rhaegar, raising an army to come to Westeros. So, forgive me, if I’m not ready to trust Jon here not to betray us and join his aunt in her conquering war, if she asks him to, in the name of his real father, once again bringing havoc to the North.”

“I think it’s safe to say, my lord, we, as well as Jon, already have our hands full getting ready to fight one war. If you think that Jon will decide to suddenly abandon his family for a woman he doesn’t even know, you’re mistaken. Jon is a Stark through and through. From his looks to the integrity of his character and if you knew him half as well as I do, you'd know I’m telling you the truth.”

“I’m not trying to judge Jon’s integrity here, but the fact remains that he and your daughter haven’t even exchanged a glance from the moment they were wed and one thing I’ve learned through my many years of experience is that a man’s real family is the one he chooses. The woman he marries and the children she bears him. I’m not expecting your daughter to get immediately with child, especially now with all the dangers your family is facing, but I will not be tricked into believing in a fake marriage, arranged only to serve your purposes. So, I think it’s in everyone’s best interest that we see this marriage consummated. And if it please you, my lord, we’ll allow you to choose who the witnesses are,” Lord Manderly finished and words of agreement were heard from every corner of the Great Hall.

Just like that, the Starks had fallen into their own trap for believing they could get through this marriage unscathed. Worst of all, it wasn’t Manderly’s words, the fury Jon could feel radiating off of Robb at his side or the anger reflected on all the faces of his family and those loyal to the Starks that made his heart race, even in his drunken state. But it was Sansa’s scared eyes, when her gaze locked with his what made him realize that all the promises and rules the two of them had set for each other, when they had agreed to take this step, were about to be broken, and he couldn’t for the life of him find a way out of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know it doesn't really make sense for Jon to get his name like that, but just roll with it and don't question it too much. This is a work of fiction based on a fictional world. ;-)  
> P.S. I've used phrases from both the books and the show for the ceremony scene!


	9. The Bedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers! :-)  
> Thank you all for reading, subscribing and reviewing!  
> I'm really curious to know what you think of this one!  
> P.S. I'm terrible at writing smut, so I apologize in advance! ;-)

**Sansa**

Sansa’s chambers had never been brighter with light than they were this night. Candles were lit everywhere around and for a while the only thing Sansa could hear was the wax melting and falling on the candlesticks, as the fire crackled in the hearth. As soon as the sound of low murmurs could be heard, however, -when everyone started filing into the room, taking their seats close to the foot of her bed- the redhead tried to focus only on the sound of her own heart, which was beating faster than ever before, blocking out everything else, as she stared at the bed’s canopy.

These chambers that had always been her personal sanctuary were now the last place she wanted to be. Although she wasn’t completely naked, wearing a night rail under the covers, her hands were grasping desperately at the furs covering her body, in an attempt to protect her modesty for as long as possible, as she felt everyone’s eyes on her. The eyes of people she never wanted to look back into. Faces she wished she would one day forget.

But even when she closed her eyes, she could still see them clearly. All four of them. Wyman Manderly, the lord of White Harbor and the man that had pretty much forced them into the situation. Rickard Karstark, the lord of Karhold and head of all the Karstarks, who were kin to the Starks and shared with them the blood of the First Men. Maege Mormont, lady of Bear Island and younger sister to the lord commander of the Night’s Watch, and finally, Theon Greyjoy; heir to the Iron Islands and her father’s ward. A member of her own family.

Even though, Lord Manderly had suggested that her father could choose whom he wanted as witnesses to the bedding, in the end, both he and lord Karstark had demanded to be a part of the witnesses. Their justification being that they couldn’t be certain that Ned Stark wouldn’t trick them by choosing only members of his own family and people only loyal to him, who could easily lie to the rest about the bedding being completed. So, her father had been left to choose the other two witnesses and right now Sansa didn’t know what was worse. Having three strangers staring at her as Jon bedded her for the first time? Or having Theon inside the room, a person she was bound to see every day for as long as they all still lived in Winterfell? Although Sansa knew that the only reason Theon was there was because her father felt more comfortable knowing there was someone he could trust with them, she still couldn’t help but feel really strange about his presence there. At least it wasn’t her father or Robb, right? Why would anyone want a member of their own family witness something like this?

These questions kept running through her mind as she waited, but the moment she heard the door to her chambers being suddenly thrown open, all thinking stopped. For the first time in a while she took her eyes from the bed’s canopy and cowardly looked towards her chamber’s entrance only to see a half-naked and inebriated Jon Snow being pushed inside the room by squealing and laughing girls, as if this was any other bedding ceremony. The way he looked was pitiful in Sansa’s opinion, but she couldn’t really blame him for reaching this state after the day they had had. In fact, she was rather jealous of how drunk he was and she wished she herself was half as intoxicated to get through what was about to happen.

Earlier that day, kneeling under the weirwood tree, she had accepted her fate that Jon Snow, now Jon Stark, would be the only man she would ever call her husband and so, she had prayed to the gods to help them someday look past their troubles and manage to have the normal marriage and life she had always dreamed of. Nevertheless, being hopeful for their future didn’t mean she was ready for that life to start so abruptly and especially under these circumstances, and watching the way Jon had been drinking all night was proof enough that he wasn’t the least ready for it either.

She had hoped that with time she and Jon could learn to look at each other differently and that eventually, if they were both comfortable with it, they could consider taking their marriage to the next level, to a more physical level that would grant them children and make them a real family. But having to do so today, when they were both still seeing each other more or less as siblings, and under the scrutinizing eyes of the witnesses, made her tremble with fear and anxiousness.  

As Jon started walking closer to the bed with a terrified look on his face that Sansa knew only mirrored her own, the door was shut behind him, making him flinch and turn one last time to look at it, before his gaze traveled momentarily to the other four people in the room. Noticing them for the first time made Jon hesitate and freeze in his spot, but then he reluctantly turned his blurry gaze back to her and for a while they just stood there staring at each other, making no move to close the distance between one another. The good thing was that for their part, the lords and lady, as well as Theon, had the decency to stay silent and not pressure them to begin, but Sansa knew it was only a matter of time before the two lords lost their patience and so, she decided that she should be the one to make the first move.

With trembling hands she uncovered her body from the furs she had just been holding onto for dear life, sitting upright on the bed, and motioned for Jon to join her. Shutting his eyes tightly, for a moment he looked like he was about to fall over, but then with slow –although unsteady- steps, he came to the side of the bed and unwillingly climbed in next to her.

Jon was wearing a thin linen tunic that was left open at the front, letting his chest free to the touch and reached the top of his thighs, almost where his smallclothes ended -although they went a little lower and closer to his knees- leaving the rest of his legs bare. Being so close to him, she could smell the wine on his breath, which reminded her of how much he had struggled with this. She wanted to comfort him and comfort herself as well, but she didn’t know how. Neither of them wanted to be here, yet they both understood that this bedding was a necessary evil.

With a reluctant hand she closed the distance and touched his bare chest, feeling his uneven breathing and his racing heart. Jon had his eyes closed again and Sansa could only guess of the battle that was going on inside his head. Sparing a quick glance towards their audience, she saw the impatience she could already sense and so, even though she didn’t want to push him, she once again took the initiative and kissed him.

The moment their lips touched, Jon let out an involuntary pained gasp, but then pressed his lips harder against her own. If she thought that her heart had been racing before, then certainly now it was about to burst out of her chest. Suddenly, she could feel strong arms around her and she was being pushed back on the bed, with Jon following and climbing on top of her, guarding her face from their eyes and creating a false sense of privacy.

For a while they just stared at each other, before Jon dived in to kiss her again. Shutting her eyes, her arms found their way around his body of their own volition, pulling him closer, and after a few moments of kissing, Sansa felt him grow hard against her thigh. When she tried to reach for the laces of his breeches, however, Jon suddenly pulled back again and, opening her eyes in confusion, she saw there were tears in his. Sansa’s breath got caught in her throat before Jon buried his face in the crook of her neck and she heard him whisper for the first time.

“I’m so sorry. All of this is my fault. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me, Sansa,” he said and she knew that none of the others in the room could have heard him.

“There’s nothing to forgive. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry too,” she whispered back and kissed his forehead, as she felt him nodding against her.

Still with tears in his eyes, Jon lay next to her and started unlacing his smallclothes, before he clumsily got rid of them entirely and crawled back on top of her and between her legs. Sansa was left staring at his manhood that was now standing at attention and for some time neither of them moved. The sound of someone clearing their throat, however, brought them back to the present and Sansa with trembling hands started pulling at her night rail to uncover more of her body, until it reached her stomach.

She was wearing no smallclothes underneath and she didn’t miss the way Jon’s eyes widened at the sight of her, naked, or the way his manhood twitched. Earlier, when she had been getting ready for the bedding, she had thought it would be easier for them this way and that they would be done faster when the time came, if she just wore her night rail and nothing more. In the end, she was thankful for her decision, because she didn’t know whether she would have found the courage to remove her smallclothes now.

Another tear rolled down Jon’s cheek and it made Sansa want to cry as well, as he settled closer between her thighs and took his member in his hand, stroking it gently up and down, until a wet, clear almost, substance started leaking from the tip. His face was back on her neck and she could hear and feel his shaky breaths, before he started whispering again.

“I’m so sorry. Please tell me, if I hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said for her ears only and Sansa found herself nodding against his head, while hiding her face in his dark curls, before she opened her legs wider for him. He didn’t enter her right away, however, but rather tried to smear the substance on her womanhood and only after he was satisfied that she was wet enough to ease the process, did he do anything.

“I’ll enter you now, alright?” he asked in a whisper and Sansa nodded once more. Although her hands were holding tightly onto the tunic on his back, from fear of the pain that was coming, nothing could have prepared her for what she actually felt. Jon went in slow, but the tearing feeling once he got inside her was unbearable. She wanted to scream and to cry, but she wouldn’t give any of the people in the room the satisfaction to be disgraced even more than she already had been and she also didn’t want to make Jon feel bad. The pain she felt wasn’t his fault. He was being as gentle as he could be with her, but the ache was inevitable.

They were both breathing hard now and Sansa couldn’t prevent the tears from forming in her eyes. After he let her adjust to his size, Jon started thrusting slowly and steadily in and out of her, until he lifted his head to look at her and saw her tears. Suddenly, he stopped all movement, while buried deep inside her, and worry flooded his features.

“You’re in pain,” he whispered and it wasn’t a question. Sansa wanted to reassure him that _no_ , she _wasn’t_ , so that he’d continue and get it over with, but she couldn’t pretend. She _was_ in pain and she couldn’t hide it from him. Jon immediately tried to pull out of her then, but Sansa, locking her legs around his hips, stopped him.

“I’m not going to keep hurting you,” he said stubbornly and Sansa gave him a sad smile.

“We have to keep going,” she whispered back, but he shook his head negatively and before long she felt him starting to go soft inside her.

“Jon, we have to keep going,” she told him again and then kissed his pouty lips, trying to get him in the mood again. Her attempt wasn’t very successful, however, and so, she decided to take a different route.

Pulling her hands from where they were clutching the tunic on his back, she started unlacing the front of her night rail until her breasts were exposed. Jon gulped at the sight and Sansa was glad to feel him grow hard inside her again. Her new husband didn’t share her relief though, and she could see how horrified he was by his reaction. He didn’t want to want her and yet he couldn’t resist her and it was all Sansa needed to go on. Taking his hands in her own, she guided them to cup her breasts, as Jon let an involuntary moan escape his lips.

“It’s alright. I’m alright. I promise,” she reassured him, brushing his curls away from his eyes with her slender fingers and caressing his cheek. Jon only nodded then and kissed her palm which was still resting on his face, before he started moving again inside her as slowly as he could, this time never taking his eyes off hers, probably worried she was lying to him, tracing her face for any sign of pain.

The signs, though, never came. It was still painful, but the worst part was over. Even though she still didn’t enjoy it, she was comfortable enough to not let it show on her face and be patient until it was over, and before long, it was. Jon’s thrusts became faster, deeper and uncoordinated until, at last, she felt him pulsing his seed inside her womb -slowly halting his movement- as he tightened a little his grip on her breasts and a deep growl came from his throat.

Thereupon, he removed his hands and covered her chest with her night rail, pulling on the laces to keep it closed, before he leaned down to kiss her forehead gently, as if he was once again apologizing. She could see he was the one in pain now, his eyes still looking red and puffy, as he carefully slid out of her to lie down on the bed. The rest of her body remained uncovered, so that the witnesses could see the results of their coupling, which Sansa was certain were obvious, as she felt Jon’s seed starting to drip from her hole. Sansa didn’t dare to look at them, but she felt their eyes on her regardless, as one by one the lords and lady got up, took one last look between her legs that she still kept open, all agreeing that it was done, and silently left the room, leaving the couple alone for the very first time.

Only when she heard the door shut behind them did she realize how bad she was trembling. The tears she had kept back all this time, trying to be strong for Jon and herself, were coming now with a vengeance and once she closed her legs and covered herself with her night rail, her chest started heaving painfully and turning away from Jon, on her side, she began crying freely. She felt violated, not because of what she and her former half-brother had done, but because of the circumstances they had to do it under. Because they were forced to do it. They had stolen what could have been a beautiful memory in their future from them. They had tainted it. Jon was probably feeling even worse than her, since he had never wanted this. He had been crying during their coupling and Sansa during the entire time had thought her heart might burst not only from all the anxiousness but also from the pain she could see in his eyes. And for that, she hated all of them. She hated them for putting that look on his face. She hated them for witnessing their union and she wished she never had to see them again.

She didn’t know for how long she had been crying, when suddenly she felt Jon move from the other side of the bed and turned in time to see him on his knees on the floor, still naked from the waist down, emptying the contents of his stomach inside her chamber pot.

˜*˜

**Jon**

He felt like the agony would never end. All the earlier drinking had left him with a sick stomach and a severe headache, but no physical pain could compare to what he was feeling in his heart and his soul. He had violated and disgraced her and yet he had taken pleasure in it while doing so. The feeling of her underneath his body, the feeling of her breasts in his hands and her wet warmth around his cock had been the best thing he had ever experienced. She had been his first and he knew she would also be his last. For that there was no doubt in his mind, even though they’d probably never sleep together ever again. He would never look at another woman after her.

He hadn’t realized it until he had been buried deep inside her, but he had been lying to himself all along. He had been lying about his feelings for her. He had told everyone that he could only ever see her as his sister, trying to convince no other than himself. He had wanted to believe it so badly, but deep inside he had always known it was a lie. A lie both Father and Robb had seen through, even Arya and everyone else. But none of them had wanted to argue with him, so they had all acted as if they believed him. Everyone except for Lady Catelyn, who every time she’d look at him, her icy eyes would tell him she already knew all of his depraved thoughts and secrets. All the jealousy he had felt towards Theon made perfect sense now. He had drunk himself to oblivion during the feast, telling himself he was doing it because he didn’t want this marriage, but the truth was that he had been only trying to forget that Sansa didn’t feel for him the way he felt for her. He wished she had never told him the truth. He wished she’d let him believe the lie she had told Robb. He wished it had never been a lie and she loved him. Nevertheless he was Jon Stark now, he had never felt more like the Targaryen he actually was.

During the act he had thought that he couldn’t possibly ever feel more ashamed of himself and that shame had brought tears in his eyes. But he had been wrong. The moment she had turned away from him and had started crying on her pillow, while her shoulders and her entire body heaved violently, his heart had broken into a million pieces and he had felt like the worst man alive. He had done that to her. Everything she was suffering from had been all because of him. Because of who he was. Because she was trying to protect him. Finally, his body couldn’t take the realization more than his heart could and he had run to the chamber pot he had noticed in the corner of the room and had started emptying his stomach.

He couldn’t tell how long he had been hunched over the pot, but after hearing soft footsteps approaching him, he suddenly felt Sansa’s delicate hand on his shoulder, as she knelt beside him, her sweet scent enveloping him and comforting him from the horrible smell of sick coming from the chamber pot.

“Jon, are you alright? Do you need me to call Maester Luwin?” she asked in a worried voice. If he didn’t know any better, he’d never tell from the tone of her voice that she had just been crying her eyes out. There was only concern there. How sweet and perfect was she? She was still worrying about him after everything he had done to her.

“No…no, I’ll be fine. I should probably go to my own-” he started to say, but before he had a chance to finish, he was vomiting again in the pot, making his eyes water in the process and feeling his body shaking from the exhaustion, until Sansa’s hand started rubbing comforting patterns on his back.

“It’s alright. You’re alright. Let it all out,” she said soothingly close to his ear and then he felt her kiss his damp from sweat hair near his temple.

“I’m sorry, Jon. I know this was really hard for you,” she said and hugged him, as he stayed hunched over the pot, staring at his own sick. What was she talking about? Hard for _him_? Hadn’t she noticed how much he had lusted after her during the bedding? How could she still be trying to find excuses for him? And what about _her_? How bad and hard it had been for _her_? Her tears afterwards had been a clear sign of that.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“No, you’re not. You didn’t want this more than I did. They forced us into this. They’re the responsible ones. I’m sorry I cried. You shouldn’t take this personally. All of it was just too overwhelming for me.”

“Of course I should. I’m the one who hurt you,” he said miserably and looked at her for the first time in a while. Her eyes were dry, but still looked red around her blue irises and he was certain that his eyes didn’t look any better.

“No, you didn’t. A little pain was inevitable. I expected it,” she said and caressed his hair.

“I’m not talking about the physical pain, although I’m really sorry about that too,” Jon confessed and she smiled sadly at him.

“I felt no other kind of pain because of you. Just the physical one. I was just too embarrassed because of the way it happened. It’s not how I imagined my first time would be like. In front of a bunch of strangers and Theon, staring between my legs. Their presence in the room tainted this memory for me.”

“I wish I could believe you,” he muttered and looked down at the pot once more.

“You should. ‘Cause it’s the truth,” she said and kissed his temple again.

“Do you think you’ll be sick again, or can we go back to bed?” she asked and started caressing his back.

“I think I’m good for now… but I should go to my own chambers.”

“I understand you want to, but we both know it’s not possible while there are all these strangers roaming the halls of the castle. You have to sleep here.”

“I know… you’re right. I’m just being stupid. I could sleep on the floor-”

“No, Jon. You’re not going to sleep on the floor. I think that after what just happened between us, sleeping in the same bed shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“I guess…” was the only thing he said. He couldn’t tell her how much he wanted to hold her in his arms and make her forget about everything. Make her forgive him.

“Do you need help?” she asked when they were already standing on their feet, and although he shook his head negatively, he still found himself leaning on her all the way back to the bed. After she dropped him gently on the edge, she then helped him lie down on his back, lifting his legs and laying them on the mattress. When she was finally done and he tried to thank her, however, his eyes fell on his manhood, which was still stained with her secretions and his own, as well as the blood from taking her maidenhead, only then noticing and remembering he was still naked from the waist down.

Sansa following his gaze blushed.

“Oh, I can bring you something to clean that up,” she said and hurriedly left him to do just that.

When she returned, Jon had already started falling asleep and so, when she asked him if he wanted her to do it for him, he didn’t really realize what he was agreeing to, until he felt her small, soft hand on his member, while she used the other to clean him up with a wet cloth. For once he was thankful he was so exhausted and his cock couldn’t react to her touch, but her attentions had once again woken him up.

Offering him a tight smile, accompanied by a deep blush on her cheeks, she moved away from the bed and then Jon’s eyes followed her as she proceeded to place her hands underneath her night rail to clean herself too with the very same wet cloth she had just used on him. Thereupon, she dropped the cloth on the floor, next to the chamber pot he had been using and, moving to the other side of the room, she picked up another chamber pot, which Jon soon realized was the one from his own chambers that had been probably brought here for him along with his other possessions.

After bringing it right next to his side of the bed, in case he had need of it during the night, she moved about the room, putting out all of the candles -the only light now coming from the fire that was burning low in the hearth- and then climbed on the bed next to him, covering them both with furs, before she bid him goodnight. The last thing he saw, as his eyelids started to get heavy, was her beautiful red hair spread out onto his pillow and from that moment he knew that was the only sight he’d ever want to fall asleep and wake up to.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was it! Thoughts?  
> P.S. I hope you don't feel like I'm ignoring you when I'm not replying to your comments, because it's not my intention! I always read each and every single one of them and always love them! The thing is that most of the times the only thing I can think to say is how thankful I am to you for following my story and commenting on it and so, I'd end up leaving the same comment over and over again. Whenever there is a specific question I can answer without spoiling the plot, I'm trying to do so in the chapter notes, so that everyone that might have had the same one can read it! Reading your thoughts keeps me going! So, once again thanks to all of you who take time to leave me a comment and I love you all! XOXO


	10. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

**Sansa**

It was late and the sun was already high in the sky, filling her chambers with light and warmth, when Sansa began to stir awake. However, it wasn’t the sun’s light that made her open her eyes, but the warmth emanating from Jon’s body from where it was pressed against her back, with one of his arms around her middle and the other underneath her neck and pillow. Suddenly, memories from the previous night came to her mind, making her shiver, and immediately she felt Jon stiffen in response.

“Forgive me,” he said in a raspy from sleep voice, trying to distance himself from her. But before he could do it, Sansa grasped the arm that was around her middle and stopped him, laying her arm over his.

“Don’t. I don’t mind,” she replied and she felt him relax around her once more, as she started stroking softly the short hairs on his arm.

She knew that Jon must have been exhausted after the night he had had. Sansa had had trouble sleeping herself and so, she had heard him each and every one of the six times he had retched and emptied his stomach inside the chamber pot she had brought next to his side of the bed. When the day had finally broken and the first soft pink and orange colors had painted the room, Sansa had watched him as he had tiredly gotten up from the bed, taking the chamber pot with and placing it next to the other. He had then proceeded to relieve himself inside one of the two, standing with his back to her, and thereupon he had started searching for his smallclothes. After he had put them on, he had removed his tunic, which he had stained with sick and had moved to the basin that had been filled with fresh water from the night before, and had washed his mouth and his hands, also splashing some water on his face. When he had finally returned to the bed, Sansa had pretended being asleep and so she had not reacted as he had gathered her in his arms, before they had both once more fallen asleep.  

“How are you feeling?” he asked, burying his face in her hair at the back of her neck, before she felt him breathe her in.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

“You?”

“Terrible,” he said after a small pause and his answer made her turn in his arms to face him. When their eyes met, she lifted her hand and brushed his dark curls away from his forehead, the same way she had done the night before, pulling them behind his ear. Her action made Jon smile sleepily at her, just as he started caressing her body over her night rail, at the spot where his arm had been lying, returning the affection.

“Does your head hurt? Do you still feel sick?” she asked, now softly stroking the side of his face that was not touching the pillow, while her other hand was left on his bare chest.

“My head does hurt, but I don’t feel nauseous anymore,” he said, staring into her eyes with his brown ones.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry I got so drunk last night. I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s alright. It was hard for both of us,” she cut him off and then moved her face closer to his, bumping his nose with her own, while she placed her arm underneath his and started drawing absent patterns on his lower back with her fingers.

“Do you… Does it hurt you down there?” he asked then, with their noses still touching, and even though they were so close, she could still see the way his face flushed.

“Not really. It just… it feels a bit strange,” she answered and then lowered her face to avoid his eyes. She was the one blushing now and Jon took advantage of the fact to place his lips firmly on her forehead and kiss her, while his hand came to the side of her neck, moving his thumb slowly back and forth over her soft skin.

For a while neither of them moved. Jon’s lips remained on her forehead, as his breathing slowed, and as she closed her eyes, their soft caresses were the only indication they were still awake.

“I don’t regret it, you know,” she muttered, breaking the silence. Jon said nothing in return, but Sansa knew he had heard her the moment he had stopped moving his thumb over the skin of her neck.

“I know you may not feel the same way, but I don’t regret marrying you and making love with you. I just wish it hadn’t happened the way it did. I just wish it was just you and me,” she confessed, feeling tears coming to her eyes and before she knew it, she was sobbing in his neck, as Jon held her tightly against him.

“Shhhh… We’re going to be fine. I promise. I won’t let anyone else hurt you ever again,” he told her as she cried harder, wetting his neck in the process. Jon, however, didn’t seem to mind. His strong arms around her felt so welcoming and safe.

“I hate them, Jon. I hate them. I feel so ashamed. I don’t want to see them ever again.”

“I know, sweet girl. It’s alright. You don’t have to see them,” he said and started kissing her hair repeatedly on the top of her head.

“Jon, how could Father let this happen to us? Why didn’t he stop it? Why didn’t he protect us?” she asked, moving her head backwards to stare inside his eyes.

“I don’t know… I don’t think he realized what he was agreeing to. How bad it would be.”

“I’m so angry with him, Jon. He didn’t even try. Not even Robb or Mother could-” she began to say, but the tears wouldn’t let her finish her sentence.

Jon said nothing to defend him, like he’d usually do, and Sansa knew it could only mean one thing. He was just as angry with him. But it made sense that he would be. Jon had never wanted to have such a relationship with her and he had been forced to do it in the worst possible way. When she had told him earlier that she did not regret sleeping with him, he had not said a thing, probably because he didn’t agree with her and didn’t want to upset her.

“I don’t want to see any of them. I don’t want to leave the bed today,” she confessed as Jon leaned down and placed his lips on each of her eyelids, kissing her tears away.

“You don’t have to see them. You can stay in bed for as long as you like. I can go and bring you food here, if you want,” he said just as he moved his lips to her hair again.

“No, please don’t leave me!” she said and tightened her grip around him. Jon was the only one she felt comfortable and safe with, after what had happened the previous night, and she didn’t want to be alone.

“Shhh… don’t worry. I won’t! Go back to sleep. Since we’re not planning to leave the bed any time soon, there’s no reason for us to be awake. I still feel so tired,” he murmured in her hair, sounding sleepy, and then kissed the top of her head.

“Me too,” she agreed, letting her eyes drift closed, and before long, after their breathing had calmed, they both gave in to sleep, holding onto each other.   

˜*˜

**Jon**

The next time Jon woke up it was to the sound of heated whispering. His headache had mostly subsided, but he still felt too numb from sleep to open his eyes. At first, he had thought the one whispering had been Sansa, and that she had already woken up before he did. However, he soon realized that was not the case. Sansa was still sound asleep in his arms, her slow and steady breaths warming his neck.

“Cat, let them sleep. They’ve been through enough already,” a voice said, which Jon realized belonged to his father. By the sound of it, he was talking with his wife.

“Let them _sleep_? Have you lost your mind, Ned? The sun has almost set and they’ve been _sleeping_ all day. Sansa needs to eat and bathe and get away from that bastard! I need to see how’s she’s doing. My poor girl-” Lady Stark whispered back angrily at first, before her voice broke and she sounded like she was in tears.

“Look, Cat, I know you’re still angry with me, but you need to stop taking it out on Jon. He’s my nephew and as of yesterday our daughter’s husband. I don’t want to ever hear you say another word about him. None of this is his fault. I won’t have you disrespect him anymore.”

“ _Disrespect_ him? You think I’m disrespecting _him_? Seventeen years ago you rode off with Robert Baratheon and came back a year later with another woman’s son and ever since that day I’ve felt nothing but shame because of him. His whole life he’s been an insult to our marriage. Finally after all these years I find out all of it was a lie and instead of that being a good thing our whole lives are being destroyed all over again. All because of him. He’s the one responsible for everything that’s happening and here we are, rewarding him with the hand of our daughter. Our beautiful, innocent daughter. You do realize he disgraced her last night, don’t you?”

“They were both doing their duty. They are wedded. There’s nothing shameful about a bedding ceremony. Even one with witnesses,” his father said, but he didn’t sound like he believed it either.

“How can you say that? Do you even listen to yourself, Ned? You let the likes of Manderly and Karstark walk all over you! You gave them your blessing to watch as your bastard took our precious daughter’s innocence,” Lady Stark hissed back.

“Do you think I wanted that? Do you have any idea how horrible I feel about that? I had no choice, Cat. They had already made up their minds. They didn’t believe us. They had come here only to insult us and convince the others as well. I had to do it. I had to agree. Do you have any idea how great the forces under their command are? They’re almost half the Northern army. Without them we wouldn’t stand a chance against Robert.”

“Still… we could have found another way. I never agreed to this match, Ned, and every step of the way I’ve been proven right. I know you did what you did because you’re trying to protect him, but what of our daughter, Ned? You have allowed your own daughter to get hurt, because you wanted to protect your nephew. Where does it end? Where do you plan to draw the line? How much more does she have to suffer until you see that?”

“Sansa is a strong girl and she agreed to this match of her own free will. Jon would never do anything to hurt her and if I have to choose between having them both die or make love, I choose the second. Because make no mistake, my love, without the support of the other Houses we have zero chance of surviving. The Tyrells have already joined Robert in his war against the Lannisters and I’m sure others will follow too. What will happen when all these soldiers march for the North? Because you know as well as I do that Robert is not one to let go of his anger,” his father said in a low voice, before they both stopped talking for a while.

“So, this is what we have reduced our daughter to, then? Politics and war? I’m wondering. Is that what you’ll tell Sansa when she asks you why you didn’t protect her and let them humiliate her?” Lady Catelyn asked, still whispering, and thereupon Jon heard footsteps fading in the distance, before the chamber’s door was opened and closed. Then, opening his eyes carefully, he found his father standing alone by the foot of the bed, his eyes closed tightly, as if he was in pain.

“Forgive me, my children. You have no idea how sorry I am. I’m only trying to protect you. Please find it in your hearts to forgive me,” he whispered after a moment of silence, thinking they were both still sleeping. But upon hearing his words, Jon didn’t know how to feel.

He was still furious with his father, because Sansa was hurting, and to his utter incredulity he had found himself agreeing with a lot of what Lady Catelyn had said, even if most of it had been against him. But on the other hand, he couldn’t not see the point his father had made. The one thing he was certain of was that he was unwilling to have that conversation, while Sansa was still sleeping in his arms. So, afraid that his father might see him, he quickly shut his eyes again and opened them only after he heard the door open and close for a second time, finding the room empty.

˜*˜

The days after the wedding had come and gone in pretty much the same manner. Everyone had been avoiding everyone, always being on edge and angry and Jon had found himself spending most of his time with Sansa, much to their guests delight, who would often comment on what a beautiful couple the two of them made. The bedding ceremony as well as the united front they presented, looking like younger versions of the lord and lady of Winterfell, seemed to have convinced them of the devotion and love the two of them shared and luckily, none of the witnesses had dared to say anything after the torture they had put them through, staying mostly out of their way.

Their family, naturally, was an entirely different matter. Sansa had not been in the mood to talk to anyone else about that night except for him, always taking refuge by his side and even going as far as to avoid her own lady mother, which had consequently resulted in Lady Catelyn constantly glaring at him and Jon being reminded of her conversation with his father that day in Sansa’s chambers. Of course that was something he was already used to and so it hadn’t really fazed him when it had started happening again, but the thing that had, had been Robb and Arya’s cold behavior towards the both of them, which continued to this day.

Robb was allegedly angry at Sansa for lying to him, according to her, but Jon could see right through him. His anger towards his sister was nothing but a front, one he used to hide how painful it was for him that she was shutting him out. Robb had always been her favorite, the one she’d always run to when she was in trouble or sad and Jon knew how helpless Robb must have been feeling with everything that was happening; and the fact that she was always by Jon’s side, confiding everything in him, didn’t make things any better. It only helped for Robb’s anger towards Jon to grow.

His brother was still furious at him for going through with the bedding ceremony and not stopping it, and he never failed to show him how mad he was with every chance he got, while they were training in the yard. The only thing that kept him relatively at bay -trying to pass it as simple competition- was the fact that there were still strangers in the castle and they all needed to appear united. But Jon had definitely earned more bruises the past few days than he was accustomed to. At least he was happy to give just as many back and more, especially when they were sparring with Theon. Theon, who had thankfully listened to his warning and avoided being in the same room as Sansa ever since the bedding. Theon had never been that obedient before, but it looked like having Ghost stand on the Ironborn’s chest and growl at him, had done the trick.

As for Arya, she was giving them both the silent treatment. Jon knew that deep down she understood that this wasn’t their fault and they had been forced into the situation, but she felt betrayed by them all the same. Jon had promised her that nothing would change and he knew that Arya had forgiven Sansa, believing she had only agreed to the wedding because she wanted to help him and that neither of them expected this to be real. But none of that mattered to their little sister anymore. Everything had already changed.

He as well as Sansa could no longer pretend being brother and sister. They were both wedded and bedded, sharing the same chambers every night, and everyone in Winterfell knew about it. They were truly husband and wife. Nothing about this marriage was a sham anymore. Only Sansa’s feelings towards him. But the previous night had been the last time she had to endure him in her bed, even though she never showed him that she minded having him there. Instead, she was always rather sweet to him about it, cuddling close to him during the cold nights, making him hope that maybe she could someday return the feelings he had started having for her. The newlywed bliss, however, was about to come to an end.

The last of the lords that had come for the wedding had left Winterfell at the first light of day, and so there would be no reason for them to share chambers anymore. Naturally, Lady Stark had wasted no time to inform him of the fact the moment the lords had announced their departure, and Jon had reluctantly agreed, knowing that Sansa would want her bedchambers back to herself. Even though he didn’t want to stop sleeping in the same bed as her, he understood that she probably did and so, without telling her anything, he had prepared himself for their parting. So, for their last night together, he had held her closer to him, had laid more kisses on her hair and had spent more time looking at her as she slept in his arms than actually sleep himself; and when the morning had come, he had refused to get up, pulling her back to his chest and making her giggle.

“The maids have already started moving your things back to your chambers, so you don’t need to worry about moving them yourself,” came suddenly Lady Stark’s voice, as they all broke their fast, pulling him out of his thoughts. When he lifted his eyes to look at her, he noticed everyone staring at him. Luckily, it was only the family sitting at the table.

“Mother, Jon doesn’t have to-”

“I’ve already discussed this with him, Sansa, and it is something he wants also,” Lady Stark interrupted her daughter, as Sansa sweetly tried to defend him, even if it was not in her best interest. The redhead’s confused eyes found his own then, from where she was sitting next to him.

“Is it true? Do you want to go back to your chambers?” she asked, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was hurt by it. But Jon knew she just felt bad for him for having to move back to his tiny bedchamber, which didn’t even have a hearth to keep him warm. This was something he had confessed to her, while they were lying in bed one night, after she had asked him how it felt like for him to be sleeping in her chambers, and then, he had started telling her of the benefits, making her laugh.

“Yeah… I think it’s for the best. I mean… with everyone leaving, there’s no reason to pressure ourselves anymore,” the lies rolled off his tongue, making him hate himself more and more with every word coming out of his mouth. _He_ didn’t think it was for the best. Lady Stark did. And not sharing her chambers with her was the last thing he wanted.

“Oh…” was the only thing Sansa said.

“Well, it was about bloody time!”

“Arya! Language!” Lady Stark scolded her daughter.

“What? It was!” Arya said, defending herself, and Jon saw Robb nodding in agreement next to her. His father was the only one who didn’t seem to have a reaction to this, but kept staring at his plate, while the rest of them expressed their opinions around the table.

“But Sansa and Jon are married now. Aren’t they supposed to sleep in the same bed like you and Father?” came Rickon’s sweet voice then, while Bran next to him showed he agreed. It seemed that their two little brothers were the only ones who were supportive of him and Sansa these days.

“It’s not always that simple, my sweetling,” Lady Stark explained, although she was wrong. It _was_ that simple. Jon was Sansa’s husband now and they were supposed to be sleeping in the same bed. But everyone else thought otherwise, so there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“I think it’d be good for all of us, if things went back to normal,” Robb was the last to say anything on the matter, as Jon glanced at Sansa for one more time before they all went back to eating. Sansa didn’t touch her food for the remaining of the meal.

˜*˜

By nightfall all of his possessions had already been moved back to his own chambers, and so, later, Jon was lying awake in bed, changing positions in an attempt to get comfortable, willing himself to go to sleep, but failing miserably. Coming back to his chambers and his bed, without Sansa’s warm body next to him and her auburn hair on his pillow had proved to be more difficult than he had originally thought. On top of that, he didn’t even have Ghost with him to distract him. His own direwolf, the traitor, had refused to leave Sansa’s chamber, sleeping on the rug next to Lady in front of the hearth, and so Jon had been left to brood alone in the dark.

As the night wore on, his restlessness was getting worse and worse. So much that he was thinking of giving up on sleep entirely and getting up from the bed, when suddenly he heard two soft knocks on his door.

“Come in,” he said, leaning back on his elbows to see who it was at the door, expecting it to be either Robb or Bran. When the door was finally opened, however, his breath got caught in his throat.

It was Sansa who stood in the entrance, bathing in the light coming from the corridor, wearing just her night rail, while her hair was loose over her breasts and back.

“Jon, are you sleeping?” she asked in a soft voice, closing the door behind her, immersing the room into darkness once again, and padding on the stone floor with bare feet.

“Sansa, sweetling, what are you doing here?” he heard himself ask, when he was over the initial shock of his nightly visitor.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she answered, fidgeting by the bed.

“Can I sleep here?” she asked then, taking him by surprise.

“You want to sleep here, with me?” he asked disbelievingly, instead of answering.

“Yes, if you don’t mind,” she replied, but sounded unsure.

“I don’t mind,” Jon said in return and immediately made room for her on the bed, lifting the furs for her to get under, while she climbed in next to him. It wasn’t until a few moments later, and when she was lying in his arms with her head resting on his chest, breathing steadily in her sleep,  that he finally let a sigh of relief escape his lips, before he muttered, “Thank the Gods,” and then sleep claimed him as well.


	11. Loving You In Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys and thank you for sticking with this story!  
> I know I've told some of you a long time ago that I was going to update soon, but unfortunately I was too busy with real life to write, so I'm really sorry for the delay!  
> This chapter was really hard to write! I'm not really pleased with how it turned out and kept deleting and rewriting a lot of things, but I decided that I wanted to post it for all of you, so here it is!  
> Even though nothing crazy happens plot-wise, it does have its important moments and it was a crucial chapter to write for what comes next. So, I hope you find it okay! Happy reading! XOXO

**Sansa**

Sansa woke up slowly, feeling loved and secure, as she lay in Jon’s arms, using his bare chest as a pillow. His heartbeat was loud and steady in her ear; his skin was soft and warm under her cheek; and all she thought at that moment was that she could stay like this, with him, forever. A lifetime by his side wouldn’t be that terrible. In fact, she was starting to believe that being married to him was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Every day that passed made it harder and harder for her not to notice all the little things that made him _Jon_. Not _Stark_ or _Snow_ or _Targaryen_. Just _Jon_. Things she had never tried to pay attention to before. Things she had never known. Like, how adorable he looked when he frowned or he was confused. How pretty and kind his eyes were, when he smiled that special smile she had only ever seen him share with her. How inviting his lips seemed, especially when he was pouting, or how soft his dark curls were to the touch.

Playing with his hair had become sort of an addiction for her. Every night when they’d lie in her bed, she would eventually start running her fingers through his hair as they talked; brushing away a curl that had fallen in his eyes or simply touching his hair at the back of his neck. And Jon would always let her, lying there and enjoying her caresses, much like Ghost. Master and wolf seemed to always like it when she was petting them, and Sansa was happy to indulge them both.

Jon was handsome. It was a fact that she’d always been aware of. The times in the past when she had caught the servant girls gawking at him, when he’d either been training with Robb in the yard, showing off his muscles, or simply passing by them, hadn’t been few. She knew his face and his body, even though he was still very young and not a man grown yet, were pleasing to the eye. But now she had come to realize that Jon was so much more than that. He was kind and thoughtful. He was sweet and caring; and every day she spent with him made her love him all the more.

All of a sudden, she couldn’t picture being married to anyone else. Jon was just like one of the heroes in the songs she liked so much, and no one else could even compare. He made her feel safe and loved and she trusted him completely, and even though it hadn’t been that long since their wedding, she had already started falling for him. Her lie to her brother was slowly but surely becoming a reality, and there were times, when he’d look at her in a certain way, and she’d think that he might be starting to feel the same way as her. And although she tried not to read too much into it, the relief she had seen in his face when she had come to him the previous night had made her heart flutter and had driven her into his waiting arms faster than ever before.

As these thoughts kept running through her mind, she slowly opened her eyes to find the room still mostly dark. Jon’s chambers weren’t as bright as her own, with them being smaller and having fewer windows, but she could tell that the day was just beginning to break and she sighed to herself disappointed. Her mother wouldn’t be pleased, if she found out she had spent the night in Jon’s bed, so she had to return to her chambers before anyone else woke. It infuriated her that they had to be put through her family’s judgement when she and Jon were already married, but she had to be patient, and she would be, for Jon. Because she didn’t want to give her mother any more reasons to hate him. Her mother needed to be eased into these new developments slowly, and hopefully, she would accept Jon as Sansa’s husband in the end.

With a heavy heart and while looking at Jon’s peaceful from sleep face, she carefully disentangled herself from his arms and got up from the bed. Her movement caused Jon to stir, but thankfully he did not wake up. She wasn’t ready to handle the disappointment in his eyes, if he were to catch her trying to leave his chambers in secret. Later she would explain why she left, but for now she had to go. Even if for a moment it felt impossible for her to move, as she spared one last look at Jon’s sleeping form. All she wanted to do was to return by his side and lay her head back down on his chest. But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she came back to her senses and finally walked out of his chambers.

“Sansa?” a voice startled her just as she closed the door. Sansa turned around to find Theon staring at her. It was the first time she was seeing him face to face since the bedding and she felt a lump forming in her throat, rendering her unable to speak.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to scare you,” he said, taking in her frightened expression.

“Were you in Jon’s chambers?” he asked then, and Sansa saw how his jaw clenched while his gaze travelled to the door behind her and back to her. This time, the nerve behind his question made her find her voice again.

“What if I was? What’s it to you? Jon is my husband, as you of all people very well know,” she bit back bitterly.

“Sansa, I-”

“So, did you get a good look? Was it pleasing enough for you? Was it close to what you see and do every time you walk into the whorehouse? Would you like me to call Jon for a repeat performance? Is _that_ why you’re here?” Sansa asked one question after the other, unable to stop herself. She was just now realizing how badly she had wanted to yell at him or at anyone for that matter for days. How her anger towards Theon and all the others who had witnessed the bedding had only bottled up and multiplied.

“Sansa, please, I did not-”

“Why did you agree, Theon? How could you agree to something like that? You knew how difficult it would be for me. The last thing I needed was a member of my own family watching while Jon took me for the first time,” she said angrily, trying to keep her voice down, not wanting to wake anyone up.

“I’m sorry, Sansa… I know I shouldn’t have agreed. Please, forgive me. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. I just- I had to make sure- I only wanted-”

“What? What could you have possibly wanted? What did you get out of this?”

“I had to make sure that no one mistreated you. That Jon did not hurt you.”

“Jon? You were worried about _Jon_?” she asked, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“Jon is nothing like you. He would _never_ hurt me.”

“But he _did_ hurt you. I know he did. Even before the bedding. When he was drinking himself to death and was ignoring you. I saw how you kept glancing sadly towards him while we danced. And then during; I saw the way you tensed up, while he was lost in his lust, enjoying himself, and it took everything for me to not get up and rip him away from your body.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. It was nothing like that,” Sansa retorted and then started walking away from him, while she huffed furiously. But soon she felt Theon tailing after her.

“Wasn’t it though? Is it a lie that he refused to even share a dance with you? Is it a lie that he instead kept drinking all night, while you danced with me and other guests? All he did was make a spectacle of himself, embarrassing you and your father in the process, in front of the whole of the North. His actions and his behavior were what led to the bedding. So if you want to blame anyone for that, blame Jon,” Theon yelled after her and Sansa was surprised that no one had appeared yet at the corridor, as she stopped walking and then turned around to look at him. The way he was speaking gave her the impression that he had been thinking about this a lot.

“It wasn’t Jon’s fault. It was hard for both of us and he was only trying to find a way to cope with the situation. They had already made up their minds about the bedding, before the wedding ever started. They never trusted us and it was obvious from the moment they set foot in the castle.”

“Who told you that? Jon? Or is it something that _you_ believe?” Theon asked, his tone annoying her even more. Sansa said nothing but only looked away. Theon was trying to make her doubt Jon, but she would never trust the Ironborn over him.

“Everyone saw the way Jon looked. How completely out of his mind he was during the whole feast, reeking of wine and stumbling all over the place. Your father and brother did too. Robb even tried to get him to stop drinking, but to no avail. And then those lords, after watching him embarrassing himself the whole night, came up with the idea of a public bedding and challenged Lord Eddard to the point he couldn’t refuse them.”

“Stop trying to turn this against Jon. Jon was as much a victim as was I.”

“Do you truly believe that? That he was a victim? I specifically recall him moaning in lust draped over your body, while you lay there suffering through it.”

“Don’t you _dare_ claim to know _anything_ about how Jon and I felt. You may have been in the same room, but you have no idea what was actually happening between us. How protective Jon was of me and how much he was suffering too.”

“I see he already has his hooks deep inside you. But that’s how our Jon is, isn’t he? Always the charmer. Having all the girls lusting after him. Jon with his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his pretty lips.”

“What do you want, Theon? I don’t understand why you’re following me and telling me all this,” Sansa said angrily, while her heart kept beating furiously in her chest.

“Did Jon ever tell you how your father tried to get you out of the bedding? How he asked Jon if he could perform in the state he was in, in front of the others, hoping he would reply negatively, and how Jon said that he could?”

“That’s a lie. Why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying. Didn’t his highness tell you that?”

“Stop it, Theon. Leave me alone. This is not funny. Stop following me,” Sansa yelled at him and then started walking again as fast as she could away from him and towards her chambers.

“The reason your father asked me to be a witness was because he was worried not only about the other witnesses, but about Jon as well. He thought that he wouldn’t be able to handle himself with you. So did Robb. So did I. And that’s why I agreed. Because _they_ couldn’t, and someone needed to be there to protect you in case something happened. So, if you want to be mad at me, _fine_. But at least you need to know the whole story. You need to know why I agreed to do what I did and why we all thought it necessary,” Theon kept talking, while tailing right after her.

“Jon never hurt me. The only ones who did were the three of you with your stupid ideas,” Sansa suddenly turned around and bit back through gritted teeth.

“So, the ones who actually tried to protect you are the bad guys? If it wasn’t for Jon’s childlike behavior none of this would have happened. Jon wasn’t the victim. He was the one who caused _everything_. I may have been only a witness and can’t possibly know every little thing that was happening between the two of you, but as a witness, I happen to know what the other witnesses thought and talked about as well,” Theon said and Sansa looked at him uncomfortably.

“Now that I have your attention, you should know that what I’ve been saying is not just an opinion. I heard them talk about it. I heard them say how they felt as if Jon was mocking them. How they thought he was being disrespectful to his Northern guests. Disrespectful to the very House that raised him and was now trying to protect him. I heard them talk about how Jon was using you and he had no intention of ever having a real marriage with you. Of how he was starting to embrace his Targaryen side. They said he was just like his father, his real one, once more playing with the lives of thousands of people,” Theon said angrily, but then composed himself when he saw the tears that were forming in Sansa’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, if it’s difficult for you to look at me, but I only did what your father, brother and my own conscience compelled me to do. I only wanted to keep you safe. I never looked at anything that would make you feel ashamed. I was always either looking away or staring at Jon’s back. I never looked at your body. You have to believe me. I just wanted to keep you safe… and I failed,” Theon finished and looked like he was going to cry too. She had never seen Theon in such a state and she couldn’t help but wonder, if it was all just an act to manipulate her.

“Sansa, I know you and I have never been exactly close. That to you I’m just someone who happens to live with your family, but- I want you to know that you mean a lot to me and I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I’d give my life first before I ever let that happen.”

“Theon, why are you saying these things to me? What do you want from me?” she asked, hugging herself defensively and looking away from him, an odd feeling creeping up her spine under his gaze.

“I could never presume to ask anything from you. But I can’t handle you hating me like this. I tried to stay away like Jon asked me to do, but I couldn’t anymore. When I saw you earlier, I had to talk to you. Apologize. Give you my side of the story.”

“I don’t hate you, Theon. But this is very difficult for me.”

“I know… I know it is. Even though I can’t possibly relate, I’m sure it must have been really hard for you. Going through all this.”

“It has…” Sansa agreed and then looked at her feet. Her anger had dissipated, but she still felt like running away, as they both just stood there in silence, not knowing what else to say, until suddenly Theon let out a humorless laugh.

“What?” she asked, confused by his reaction.

“Nothing, I just- I’ve never been more jealous of Jon than I am right now. I mean, Jon and I have always been antagonistic with each other, but this has been the biggest blow.”

“What are you talking about?”

“ _You_. You’re a true lady and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and I wish I was worthy of you. I wish that I could be the one married to you instead of Jon. I can’t wrap my head around how he got to have you, when he’s been your brother our whole lives and you were the one thing I wanted that he was never supposed to have.”

“What are you saying, Theon?” Sansa asked shocked, her voice barely making it past her lips.

“I love you,” Theon blurted out.

“I have for a while,” he said and paused, looking at the ground.

“…but I never had the courage to express it. And now it’s too late. I got to see Jon marrying and fucking the girl I love and now I get to see you falling for him more and more with every day that passes and it breaks my heart.”

At his confession Sansa could do nothing but stare, as Theon started wiping unshed tears from his eyes. What could she possibly say to this? She didn’t feel like he was lying to her, but how could this be? When had it happened?

“I think you’re confused. This is just another one of your petty fights with Jon. It has nothing to do with me. I’m just something you think you want, because you can’t have me and Jon does.”

“No, Sansa. I promise. It’s not like that. I’ve been feeling this way long before Jon’s parentage was revealed. Long before it was decided that you two should marry.”

“Theon, I can’t- how-”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Forgive me, my lady. I’m not expecting anything from you. I only wanted to ask for your forgiveness and now I have. I’ll stay out of your way. I promise. Have a good day,” Theon said and the whole time he was talking he resembled a scared animal looking for a way out. And just like that he was gone, and Sansa was left staring at the empty space he had left in his place, too shocked to move.

˜*˜

**Jon**

It had been days since Jon had moved back to his chambers and he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. After that first night Sansa had not returned to share his bed and Jon had not found the courage to ask her why that was or visit her in her own chambers. Instead, the only thing he had managed to do had been to become more miserable and broody than usual.

That morning he had woken up alone in his bed with her smell still lingering on his pillow, along with a long auburn hair, and that had been the only proof she had actually come to him and he hadn’t just dreamt the whole thing.

From one moment to the next she had started pulling away from him and Jon couldn’t understand the reason behind the change in her behavior. As far as he was concerned, they had made a lot of progress in their relationship and they had become really close after their wedding. Her need to come share his bed that night had been proof enough of that. But then everything had changed.

She no longer watched him while he practiced with Robb in the training yard, like she had done so many times since their betrothal. She never visited him anymore while he studied in the library under Maester Luwin’s supervision with the rest of the boys. He had no idea how she was spending her days. The only times he actually saw her were during their meals with the rest of the family, and even though she was still choosing to sit right beside him, she was always distant and silent.

At least their family seemed to appreciate things going back to normal and he had actually managed to get back in Robb and Arya’s good graces. His brother had been satisfied enough by his and Sansa’s distance and had stopped glaring at him at every chance he got or trying to kill him every time they sparred, without Jon having to do anything more to earn his forgiveness. Arya, of course, was a whole different matter. It had taken going to Mikken and having a sword forged for her, which she had then named Needle, and then promising her to teach her how to swordfight to actually get her to talk to him again. But ever since they had started their lessons, her usual smile had returned to her face and they now seemed to finally be in a good place again, as long as Sansa’s name never came up.

Arya was still angry with her sister, which made sense. Jon always knew that when it came to Arya, he’d be forgiven long before Sansa, because the sisters’ relationship was always kind of tense. But at least he was glad that slowly they all seemed to be getting over it and he was sure that eventually Arya would forgive Sansa the same way she had forgiven him. His siblings meant the world to him and it had been hell when they had been mad at him. However, if he was honest with himself, he’d rather have Sansa talking to him than Robb or Arya.

He just couldn’t understand what he had done wrong or when he had done it. Could it be possible that her mother had finally gotten to her head and she was now rethinking their marriage? No, it couldn’t be. It had to be something else. Sansa had spoken often to him about how she didn’t and would never share her mother’s opinion of him and Jon had believed her. He just had to figure out what it was that was bothering her and he had every intention of discovering it before her nameday came, which was now very close. So, he had to take matters into his own hands and that was exactly what he did.

These days it seemed impossible for him to get her anywhere alone, but after some plotting with her handmaid he had finally managed to trick her into going to the glass gardens, where he waited for her, a winter rose already in his hand.

“Jon?” Sansa muttered surprised, the moment her eyes fell on him.

“I was told Mother-”

“I know... Lady Stark isn’t here. I’m the one who sent for you. Here, this is for you,” Jon said, coming closer to her to give her the rose.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said as she took it from his hand and brought it to her face and smelled it.

“You’re welcome,” Jon said in return and stood there awkwardly watching her as she carefully caressed the rose’s petals.

“I- I wanted to see you. We haven’t had the chance lately to spend any time with each other, and I thought-”

“To trick me into meeting you here?” Sansa asked, a small smile playing on her lips. Her voice didn’t sound accusatory, but it still made Jon want to apologize to her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just asked-”

“Yes, you should have, but since we’re here…” Sansa interrupted him and then started moving among the plants and roses that were all around them.

“Sansa?” Jon called her name then, staring at her back, as she took in everything around her.

“Have I done something to hurt you? Is that why you’ve been so distant lately?”

Sansa stopped moving then and said nothing for a while.

“I- I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“What does that even mean, _you don’t know_?” Jon asked infuriated. She had been keeping him at arm’s length this whole time and she didn’t even know the reason? Quickly Jon composed himself, when he realized he had yelled at her.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to shout. I just- I don’t understand what has happened that made everything change between us all of a sudden. The night you came into my chambers, I fell asleep the happiest man and the morning after when I woke up everything had crumbled,” Jon said, coming behind her. He couldn’t help but gather her in his arms, while he buried his face in her hair. He had missed touching her like this.

“Please, just tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it,” he murmured in her hair.

“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault,” she replied and then turned around in his arms, coming face to face with him.

“Why?” was the only thing Jon could think of saying, as he caressed the sides of her waist.

“That morning, I saw Theon-” Sansa started to say, but the moment the Ironborn’s name rolled off her tongue, Jon was filled with fury.

“I’M GOING TO KILL HIM! WHAT DID HE DO? I TOLD HIM TO STAY AWAY-” Jon kept yelling, while trying to get out of Sansa’s grip, who was the one holding him in place now.

“No, Jon. It’s alright. I- He told me some things and I overreacted. He wanted to apologize for what happened that night and explain to me why he agreed to be a witness and it just… it brought back bad memories and somehow it affected me and I felt the need to put some distance between us. I suddenly felt like things were moving too fast. I realized that I had already started depending too much on you and I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do,” Sansa confessed and Jon felt his heart sink.

“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re my wife and I’m your husband. I want you to rely on me. I want you to know that I can keep you safe and I will. No matter what.”

“He blamed you for the bedding. He said- he said Lord Manderly and Lord Karstark only asked for a bedding with witnesses because of the way you behaved during our wedding feast. He said he heard them talk about it,” Sansa answered, while Jon stared at her.

“And do you believe him? Do you blame me as well? Is that why you wanted to stay away from me?” Jon asked and he felt tears forming in his eyes. Sansa’s words were only confirming what he had known all along. He had been lying to himself, thinking that whatever he had done that night hadn’t mattered and that it would have always turned out this way. But deep inside, he knew the truth. And he knew Theon and Sansa were right.

“Maybe I do,” she replied, pulling him out of his thoughts and crushing his heart in the process.

“But all this time I spent away from you made me realize I don’t care. I don’t care, if it was your fault or not, because it brought us together and it’s all I could have ever asked for. I just want to be with you and not think about this any longer. And if you hadn’t plotted to get me here today, I would have come to _you_ ,” she said and smiled at him, while Jon felt a smile of his own forming on his lips.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, staring inside her eyes.

“I do. I missed you,” she said and then let her forehead lean against his.

“Sansa…”

“Mmmm…?” she murmured in return, her eyes closed, savoring the moment.

“I don’t think I can or want to stay away from you anymore. These past few days I’ve missed you terribly and all I could think about was holding you in my arms again,” Jon said, and to emphasize his point held her closer to him.

“I don’t think I can stay away from you either. I want us to be together, for real,” she agreed and before she could add anything more, Jon claimed her lips with his own in a kiss full of love and relief, while a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“What are we going to do?” he asked her after the kiss was over, bringing his forehead back against hers.

“I can’t handle anything like this happening ever again. Everyone here is against us and I feel like it’s only a matter of time before someone else tries to separate us. Your mother, Arya or Robb, if they find out we’ve decided to be together as a true husband and wife, they’ll try to tear us apart again. They’ve only calmed down, because we’ve been distant.”

“Then we won’t let them find out. It will be our secret. We’ll let them believe what they want to believe, but we’ll live our life the way we want it. We’ll just have to love each other in secret.”

“Does that mean that you love me?” Jon asked.

“I think I do,” Sansa answered shyly.

“I think I love you too,” he said back and this time Sansa was the one to initiate the kiss and as her lips melted against his, all Jon could think was that he would never let anyone or anything get between them ever again. Only the winter rose Sansa was now holding between their bodies. The first flower he had ever given her. A symbol of love. A symbol of their secret love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for all the love you have shown for this story through your comments, kudos and subscriptions!


	12. The Greatest Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the bookmarks, subscriptions, kudos and comments! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

**Sansa**

The day had just broke, when Sansa opened her eyes to the usual sight of her bed’s canopy, like she had done hundreds of times before; and although there was nothing exceptional or great about what she was looking at, she immediately found herself grinning from ear to ear. Because this was not just another day. It was a day that every year filled her, and the whole castle, with happiness. Because during this day fourteen years ago the bells of Winterfell had rung from sunset to sundown to celebrate her birth. Her nameday was always a joyous event, but somehow she knew that this time around it was going to be even more special. Because this was the first nameday she would celebrate as a wedded woman and as Jon’s wife.

Ever since that day in the glass gardens, she and Jon were trying to be careful with the way they acted around their family, in order to keep things between them a secret. They didn’t want their family to know yet that they had decided to give their marriage an actual chance and be a true wife and a true husband to each other, because they were afraid of their reaction. So, even though they had started to slowly explore their romantic feelings when it was just the two of them, they still kept their distance when there was a family member around; or anyone else really.

Sansa was aware, however, that Jon was getting more impatient with every passing day. She could tell just by looking at him, every time they were in the same room together, that all Jon wanted to do was come to her side and be free to be with her the same way they had seen Father and Mother be a thousand times. Even after all these years of being married, the Lord and Lady of Winterfell shared a deep love people admired and were envious of, and they were not shy to show how they felt, even though they were always proper about it, as they should.

She had never known how sweet and loving Jon Snow truly was. But from the moment when he had taken her in his arms in the glass gardens, while being surrounded by the smell of hundreds of winter roses, and then when they had shared their first true kiss, after confessing their feelings to each other—without having anyone witness it or being affected by fever, not knowing what they were doing, but with them both actually wanting it—he had never stopped showing her how he felt and proving it to her with every chance he got.

Every time they were alone Jon would either hug her, or hold her hand, or kiss her lips, always with adoration in his eyes that Sansa had never seen before. She could not believe how quickly everything had escalated. From one moment to the next they were both acting from distant siblings, who had nothing in common, to fools in love, unable to stay away from each other for too long.

Sometimes, she could see the guilt behind Jon’s actions and she felt that the reason he was always so agreeable to everything she wanted to do was what she had confessed when their secret love affair had started. Even though she had told him many times since then that she didn’t care anymore, and that even if the bedding incident was indeed his fault, he was forgiven, Jon still blamed himself and he was always trying to make it up to her by being more sweet and always asking for her permission before he touched her, or did anything to her. And while she appreciated him always being so chivalrous, she still needed him to occasionally act like the wolf she knew was hiding inside him, that animal side of him she had seen glimpses of during their wedding night.

If there was one thing even the presence of the lords and lady, as well as Theon, couldn’t ruin during their first time together, was how good it had felt, although scary, to have Jon’s weight on her body. To have his strong arms around her, while feeling his hot breath on her neck and hearing his low growls of passion in her ears. If it hadn’t been for them or for the pain caused by _it_ being her _first time_ , she knew that she would have enjoyed it, and she was hoping that she would get to actually experience it properly really soon.

The times when Jon’s hands or her own had wandered during their secret get-togethers weren’t many, but every time it had happened, things had gotten out of hand quickly and they had had to stop. Early on their agreement, Jon had suggested they shouldn’t share a bed anymore, until they were truly ready. He had said that now that they had decided to actually give a chance to their marriage, he needed to court her properly, and he wouldn’t be able to do that, if he had her in his bed every night; even though he had assured her there was nothing he wanted more than to fall asleep and wake up with her in his arms.

He wanted their relationship to develop slowly and naturally and forget how fast and abruptly it had started. And although Sansa had agreed and understood what he meant by that, if Jon’s excitement every time things had gotten too far was any indication—like it was the normal thing for any sixteen year old boy—she still missed him terribly at nights and her bed often felt too empty, when it was not occupied by Ghost and Lady, with the two wolves denying to leave each other’s company, despite both of her and Jon’s efforts to get Ghost back to Jon’s chambers with him. It seemed like their direwolves knew what was right and they were doing what both their masters wanted to do themselves, but couldn’t. Lately, especially, it had become more difficult for Sansa to accept their agreement and she had had to often remind herself how dangerous it would be for them to be discovered, if they started sleeping in the same bed again. The one time she had sneaked into Jon’s chambers, she had gotten caught by Theon and she really didn’t need a repeat of that experience.

Theon was yet another thing troubling her. The guilt she would sometimes see in Jon’s eyes when he’d look at her, as a result of the blame he took for the bedding, she knew was what Theon saw in hers. Somehow, his little confession of being in love with her had filled her with guilt, and it hadn’t even anything to do with the Ironborn. She felt guilty not because she was with Jon and couldn’t reciprocate Theon’s feelings—she probably only felt sorry for him if anything—but her guilt originated in her inability to tell Jon the whole truth. Jon was already cross with Theon and she knew that if she told him about how Theon claimed to be in love with her, it would not end well. And although she was telling herself she was keeping it from him for the right reasons, she still couldn’t help but feel bad about it. They were only married for a few weeks now and the lies had already begun.

But these were all things that mattered during the regular days and she wasn’t about to deny herself the chance to spend her first nameday married to Jon by his side as much as possible. So, that was how she found her way into his bed while the rest of the castle and Jon himself still slept.

“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to stare?” Jon murmured in a husky from sleep voice and a slight smirk on his lips, while keeping his eyes still closed. Without realizing it, after crawling under the furs and into his arms, Sansa had spent a great amount of time just staring at his face while he slept.

“How can you tell if I’m staring at you or not? You haven’t even opened your eyes yet,” she told him, amused, feeling his hand starting to move up and down her spine as he woke.

“I don’t need to open my eyes to know. You’re always staring, because you can’t help how handsome you find me,” Jon said teasingly, while smiling, and Sansa hit his chest playfully in retaliation.

“Hey,” he protested and laughed, as he caught her wrist to cease the attack, locking his gaze with hers for the first time.

“I don’t think it is right to strike your husband,” he said and smiled sweetly at her.

“It is, when my husband is being an idiot,” she retorted and then buried her face in the crook of his neck, feeling her cheeks blush, as Jon pulled her closer to him and continued caressing her back and her hair. She wasn’t used to him calling himself her husband and she really liked how that sounded, coming from his lips. That small word of her claim on him made her heart flutter and the only thing better would be to hear him call her his wife.

“What a wonderful surprise this was. I wish I could wake up to this every morning,” Jon muttered then, kissing her head, as she put her hand back down on his chest, and he held it with his own, running circles over her skin with his thumb. She was glad that he had decided to forego a sleeping shirt and she could feel the warmth emanating from his body.

“Well, you could, if you’d choose to,” she answered wistfully, and she knew it was unfair. Of course Jon wanted to, but it was his honor and his respect for the family that kept him away.

“Maybe, but this is a special day, isn’t it?” he said, not sounding irritated at all by what she had just told him.

“Oh? I didn’t notice. And what kind of special day would it be?” she asked, feigning ignorance, as she started moving her hand across his chest, stroking him lightly.

“It happens to be my wife’s fourteenth nameday, so you’d better get out of my bed quickly, before she finds you here,” Jon replied and Sansa stopped her caresses to strike him again. Jon only laughed and brought her even closer to his body, hugging her tightly to him.

“Happy nameday, my love,” he said and then claimed her lips with his own in a kiss.

“I wish I could spend the whole day here with you and do nothing else,” she confessed after a few more moments of kissing.

“Me too… but it’s not really fair for the rest of the family who want to celebrate with you,” Jon said and gave her another kiss on her lips.

“I know… you’re right. I just- I know I won’t be able to be with you the way I want to, when we’re with them,” she admitted and she could see a small frown form on Jon’s face. She knew that it was something that was bothering him too, but he didn’t want to admit and make her unhappy, especially today. Their arrangement wasn’t ideal, but it was better than having everyone mad at them for doing what was the normal thing. Being a wife and a husband to each other.

“Well, it’s not that bad. There will be lots of lemon-cakes and everyone will do whatever you want the whole day and give you lots of presents,” Jon said, bringing her back from her thoughts.

“You’re right. I should probably get up then and go back to my chambers, before Mother starts looking for me. She won’t like it, if she finds me here,” she started teasing him, but soon realized the truth behind her words and sighed deeply, before she brought her nose back to his neck and breathed him in, enjoying his scent that was so purely Jon.

“No, not yet! Stay here… What am I supposed to do without you?” Jon mock-argued and locked his arms around her, refusing to let her go. Sansa only laughed at his reaction.

“I imagine whatever you were doing before I came in here.”

“I was sleeping, but I won’t be able to after you’re gone. It was already too difficult before you came into my bed, wearing nothing but your night rail.”

“Why? You’re having trouble sleeping without me?” she asked amused, but buried her face deeper in his neck and held him tighter, knowing exactly what trying to sleep in an empty bed felt like. It hadn’t been that long since they had started sleeping together and yet she couldn’t sleep alone in her bed anymore.

“Maybe… But I wasn’t the one coming here in the middle of the night, asking to cuddle,” Jon said reminding her of that first night, after Jon had moved back to his chambers.

“I didn’t ask to cuddle,” she protested and tried to pull back and glare at him.

“And yet we cuddled all the same,” he said, laughing softly, as he cupped her face with his hand. But then, his expression became serious again, as he stared at her. First at her eyes and then at her lips.

“Jon?” she whispered unsure, her eyes moving of their own volition to his lips, while biting her lower lip between her teeth.

“Hmm?” Jon murmured and gulped, never taking his eyes off her mouth.

For a while neither of them moved, but only looked at each other, breathing heavily; until suddenly Sansa decided she had had enough and dived in to kiss him, making them both melt into each other and moan with relief. It was nothing like the soft kisses they had shared a few moments ago. Jon’s grip tightened around her, as he pulled her closer to him, and Sansa straddled him, placing one leg on either side of his hips.

With every passing moment, their kissing became more passionate and more aggressive, as they both explored each other’s mouths, with their lips swelling and their tongues fighting for dominance. Their hands were in each other’s hair and their bodies were moving in rhythm with their kissing, and for the first time in her life, Sansa could feel wetness pooling between her legs.

“Sansa…” Jon tried to say, drawing his lips back for a moment, before Sansa claimed them again and tried to find some friction against his hardness that she could feel over her smallclothes, pressing into her center for a while now. She didn’t know what had come over her, but she felt unable to stop.

“Sansa… Sweetling…” Jon said again, as she rocked her hips against his own, drawing a moan from his lips.

“We have to stop or I’ll…” he muttered, but did nothing of the sort. Instead he let her continue rocking against him, placing his hands softly on her hips to urge her on, until she felt him going limp beneath her, while he let out a deeper moan and clutched her night rail.

“Jon…” Sansa moaned his name against his lips, their breaths mingling, when she felt heat building within her.

“Keep going…” he murmured, his eyes closed and mouth open in ecstasy, before he nuzzled her nose with his own.

“You’re almost there…” he said, caressing her hips softly over her night rail, as she started chasing after an unknown feeling. And then, opening her mouth in a soundless scream, she came, and it was everything she had imagined it would be like and more.

“Thank you…” she whispered against his lips, when she was able to breathe and speak again.

“Anytime…” Jon murmured back and smiled, before they resumed kissing lazily, with their urges now sated, both moving to lie on their sides.

For a while they didn’t speak, but only looked at each other, after the kissing had stopped.

“Jon?”

“What?” he asked softly, as they held hands between their bodies, and while he kept staring at their intertwined fingers.

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this hiding around thing. I want to be with you and for everyone to know. We shouldn’t hide our love like we’re ashamed of it,” she said and then his eyes met hers.

“There’s nothing I’m prouder of than being your husband, you know that.”

“I’m tired of not being able to sleep with you in the same bed and always looking behind our backs to see if there’s anyone around, so we can kiss. We’re married; we shouldn’t be going through all this.”

“What would you have me do? I just got everyone to talk to me again. Robb will kill me, if we tell him.”

“No, he won’t. His problem was that he thought I lied to him about loving you. Now, however, we’re both in love with each other, and it’s not a lie. Robb will understand. He just wants us both to be happy.”

“You want me to talk to him?” he asked, lowering his eyes again to look at their hands.

“No, I will. It’s about time. Besides, it’s my nameday. He won’t be able to refuse me anything,” Sansa said and smiled.

“What about Arya?” he asked then.

“Ugh… maybe you should take care of that. I can handle Robb, but Arya is a whole different matter. If it comes from me, she’ll only hate me more than she already does. She needs to hear it from you to believe it.”

“Arya doesn’t hate you,” Jon defended their little sister, but stopped talking when Sansa looked at him pointedly.

“Fine. What about Lady Stark? We all know whom _she_ hates.”

“Don’t worry about Mother. If our siblings and Father have our backs, she will eventually accept it.”

“I won’t hold my breath till that happens.”

“Come on. She’s not _that_ bad.”

“If you say so,” Jon said, his words full of sarcasm; but Sansa didn’t mind. She knew her mother had been hard on Jon all his life and she continued to be, even though she had no reason to anymore.

“I’m sorry. I promise she’ll change her mind when she sees how happy you make me.”

“Really? I make you happy?” he asked and smiled, before pressing a kiss on her nose.

“You know you do,” she replied and paused, burying herself in his arms.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier than when I am with you,” she confessed.

“Me neither,” Jon said back and closed his eyes.

“I should go back,” Sansa murmured, breathing in his scent.

“Yeah, you should…” Jon muttered back, but didn’t make a move to release his hold on her, and Sansa didn’t feel like moving either. After that, silence engulfed them and not much later so did sleep.

˜*˜

Robb had just returned from riding, when Sansa found him near the stables. At first she felt nervous, but when his eyes caught hers and his face broke into a smile, she forgot about everything; and so did Robb, as they started running towards each other. A moment later, and he was lifting her up from the ground, hugging her tightly to himself.

“Robb…” she muttered as she felt her eyes filling with tears, while she buried her fingers in his auburn curls, and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

“Happy nameday, sweetling,” Robb said back and kept holding her like his life depended on it.

“I’m so sorry, Robb. I’m so sorry I lied to you,” Sansa apologized, letting the tears flow freely down her cheeks.

“No, Sansa. You have nothing to apologize for. I know you were only trying to protect Jon. I’m the one who is sorry. I had no reason to get mad at you, but you have every reason to be mad at me. I’m so sorry I didn’t do anything to stop it. I should have put my foot down. By then I knew how you felt, and even if I didn’t, it was wrong what they made you do. I shouldn’t have let Father and the rest do what they did. I’m so sorry. I should have protected you,” Robb told her, before he finally let her back down on the ground and looked at her. He too had tears in his eyes.

“Robb, it’s not your fault. It wasn’t your doing, and there wasn’t anything you could have done to stop it.”

“I could have tried harder,” Robb argued, but Sansa only smiled sadly at him and wiped a tear away from his cheek, as his blue eyes that were the same shade as hers stared back at her.

“Robb, can we go somewhere to talk, alone?” she asked him then, while looking at the people around them, who were trying to act like they were minding their own business and hadn't been staring at the two siblings' interaction a moment ago. Robb looked concerned by her request, but after following her gaze, he only nodded and followed her into the castle and then into the room Septa Mordane usually used when she was teaching Arya and her how to embroider.

“What’s wrong, Sans?” he asked as he took a seat next to her on one of the benches in the room.

“I… How are things between you and Jon?” she asked him back and saw the way he grimaced.

“I don’t really want to talk about Jon.”

“I thought things were better between you two.”

“If you’re talking about the fact I haven’t murdered him yet, then sure. Things are fine,” he replied sarcastically, and Sansa took his hand in her own.

“Robb, I don’t want you to be mad at him because of me. Jon is your best friend. He’s always been your best friend.”

“Yeah, well, that was before-”

“No, he still is. Don’t deny you love him more than the rest of us. I know you’re always acting protective of me, but Jon is the one who’s always been your favorite.”

“He’s never been my favorite. I’ve always loved you all equally.”

“Alright, maybe you do love us all equally, but Jon has been more to you than just a sibling, and I hate what this marriage has done to your friendship.”

“I hate what this marriage has done to _you_ ,” Robb said back angrily.

“Robb, I won’t lie to you. Not again. You know it and I know it that the bedding was a terrible experience for both me and Jon, and perhaps a little more for me, because I’m a girl, but it’s something I don’t hold against him, and he has helped me get through. He’s really been there for me and you can’t spend the rest of your life blaming him for it. He blames himself enough as it is and he’s trying to make up for it.”

“How can he possibly make up for something like that?”

“He makes up for it by being sweet and kind to me and showing me every day how much he values me and respects me.”

“What are you talking about? You’re not even talking to each other.”

“But we do. We only try to keep our distance for the sake of all of you, because you’re having trouble accepting us,” Sansa admitted and lowered her gaze to look at his hand inside of hers.

“Sansa… please don’t lie to me-”

“I’m not lying. Jon and I… we… we’ve decided to try and have a real marriage, since the bedding ceremony ruined every possibility to have a fake one, and so far, it’s been going well,” she said and Robb grimaced again, although he tried to hide his disgust.

“What do you mean _it’s been going well?_ ” he asked after a moment.

“We’ve sort of… started developing feelings for each other, and exploring being married to each other?” she answered awkwardly, but it sounded more like a question.

“ _Exploring being married to each other?_ ” he repeated and this time he couldn’t mask his disgust.

“You know… after the bedding we couldn’t just go back to acting like siblings. So, we tried to act like a… husband and wife would.”

“OH GODS!” Robb said dramatically, while hiding his face behind his hands.

“I’m sorry, Robb, I know this is awkward for you, but I can’t take it anymore. Jon and I can’t keep pretending that everything is normal and as it used to be, when it’s not. We’re married and for better or worse this marriage is real. We consummated it and we want to make the best of it from now on.”

“Gods, Sansa… Jon is my brother and you are my sister.”

“But he’s _not_ our brother… not really. You were understanding the last time I told you I had feelings for him, even if it was a lie back then. Why can’t you understand it now?”

“It’s a different thing knowing my sister has feelings for my brother _I know_ he’s never going to reciprocate than knowing you two _FUCK_ each other,” Robb said exasperated.

“ROBB!” Sansa yelled at him scandalized.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Was that word not delicate enough for you? How do you think _I_ feel? Isn’t that what you meant when you said you wanted to have a ‘ _real marriage’_? Isn’t _fucking_ the point of a real marriage?”

“If you’re going to be like that, I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” Sansa said angry and embarrassed as she looked away, remembering what she and Jon had been doing that very morning.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Robb, would it be better if I had married a stranger who mistreated me and didn’t care about me?”

“No, of course not, but-”

“You know how marriages of convenience are. Just because Mother and Father fell in love, it doesn’t mean all marriages turn out the same way. You know Jon; you’ve known him all your life. Do you really think he would ever mistreat me or hurt me? Jon is the nicest person I know, and I know you think so too. That’s why you love him so much. And I know you’ll never stop seeing him as your brother, but he’s not our brother and I won’t have you acting all disgusted around us, when we kiss, or hold hands, or act married,” Sansa said and started crying again. Robb stayed silent for a while and didn’t look at her, but when he did, there was pain written all over his face.

“What’s wrong? There’s something else troubling you; I know there is,” she added, forgetting about her own tears, and ran a comforting hand through his curls.

“I hate that he’s not my brother. I can’t get over it. I’m mad at him for not being my brother. I feel like I’m losing him; like I won’t be as important to him from now on, because we’re _only cousins_ now. We don’t share the same father anymore. I know it might be a good thing, like for Mother, because she was always hurt by him being here, knowing that Father had cheated on her, but for me… having Jon as my brother has been the best thing.”

“Robb, Jon loves you very much. You’re never going to lose him. He will always be your brother, no matter what. I know he feels for you exactly the same way you feel for him, and he’s been just as afraid of losing you as you’ve been afraid of losing him. He didn’t want you to know about us at first, because he thought you were starting to forgive him and he knew you would only get mad again. I don’t want to get between the two of you, but I can’t pretend anymore I feel for him the same way you do. For me Jon is my husband and a cousin, and I’ll never see him as my brother ever again. _You_ are my brother. _Bran_ is my brother; and _little Rickon_ too,” Sansa said as she kept caressing his hair.

“Will you talk to him? For me? Please?” she asked then and Robb nodded reluctantly.

“I’m sorry, Robb. We had no idea you felt this way, but I promise nothing else has to change. Jon loves you the same way he always did. You’re his favorite person in the whole world.”

“I don’t know about that. Now he has you,” he said, but this time he didn’t sound irritated, and Sansa knew things would go well, when he gave her the faintest of smiles.

“Thanks, Robb,” she thanked him happily, smiling back at him, but when she tried to stand up, a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach made everything around her blur, and before she knew it, Robb was holding her upright against his body.

“Sweetling, what’s the matter? Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?” he asked her.

“I’m fine. I think I might have stood up too quickly, and I haven’t really eaten much today,” Sansa reassured him, as she felt her senses coming back to her.

“Well, then, I have just the right thing for you. I might have smelled some lemon-cakes being baked in the kitchen earlier. What do you say? Shall we go eat some?” he asked and Sansa agreed eagerly, before Robb led her out of the room, holding onto her, just in case she got dizzy again. It wouldn’t really be her nameday until she had her lemon-cakes.

˜*˜

**Jon**

It had been a long time since he had last seen Sansa acting so careless and happy. She and Robb were swirling around the floor, dancing and laughing with each other, as everyone around them were having a great time. Even though she had danced during their wedding feast too, the way she carried herself now and the huge smile on her face resembled nothing from that night. She was genuinely happy and it wasn’t just an act for the people around her; and the rest of the family seemed to share her high spirits. For one night, in honor of Sansa’s nameday, everyone had put all their troubles behind them and were acting like a happy family again. And when Robb had come up to him and had hugged him tightly earlier, he had felt his own heart swell with happiness.

Robb knew, and he still loved him and supported him. Sansa had told him, and Robb had accepted it. He only wished he could have done the same with Arya, as he had promised Sansa. But he had been reluctant to do it today. He had been afraid that Arya might not take it well, and considering her young age, he didn’t know how she could react, and he’d hate to ruin Sansa’s nameday. So, he had put it off, and had been at least glad to see his little sister wishing Sansa for her nameday, after weeks of not talking to her.

He had decided that he would not drink this time. He wanted to remember every single moment of this night and he had promised himself that he would never embarrass Sansa ever again because he couldn’t keep it together. But as he got up to ask Sansa’s hand from Robb for a dance, he wished he had had at least one cup of liquid courage. Sansa’s smile, however, and Robb’s approving pat on his back had vanquished his fears as he took his place in front of her, took her hand in his own and placed the other one around her waist—like he should have done at their wedding feast.

Sansa was radiant tonight and he couldn’t take his eyes off her, as they danced. It was the first time he felt Lady Stark glaring at him and didn’t care. Dancing with Sansa on her nameday was worth every single glare he received, whether it was coming from Sansa’s mother, Arya—although those were mostly directed towards Sansa—Theon, and even Jeyne Poole for some reason. Sansa and Jeyne hadn’t been talking lately, and he didn’t know what that was about, but he was prudent enough not to get caught up in a girl fight. He had enough problems as it was.

“Jon,” Sansa whispered to him as they danced. She looked shy all of a sudden.

“What is it, my love?” he asked her, whispering back. This was a moment between them and he didn’t want anyone else to hear. Other dancers had joined them on the floor as well, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Theon dancing with Jeyne, and Robb with Arya.

“I have a surprise for you,” she said then, biting nervously her lower lip, as they kept swinging and turning.

“A surprise for _me_? I’m the one who should be surprising _you_. It’s _your_ nameday, not mine. I haven’t even given you my gift yet,” he told her and smiled.

“I think you already have… The greatest gift you could have possibly given me,” she said back and Jon looked at her confused.

“What do you mean?” he asked, but when Sansa was about to answer, a voice was heard from the distance. A man came running into the Great Hall and the music and voices immediately died down around them.

“Lord Stark,” he yelled, looking at his father. He was wearing all black, looking like he hadn’t bathed in a while, and Jon immediately knew this man was a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch. Suddenly, he felt fear crawling up his spine.

 _Uncle Benjen_ , he thought and held Sansa tighter against his body.

“What is the matter? What are you doing here? Who are you?” Father asked, as he got up from his seat at the high table.

“My name is Yoren, milord. I’m bringing news from the Watch and your brother,” the man replied.

“What news? Did something happen to Benjen?” his father asked, looking worried, and everyone waited anxiously for the man’s answer.

“He went beyond the Wall weeks ago, milord, and he hasn’t returned yet. We sent scouts after him, but the only thing they found was part of a dead man’s arm. Something is happening beyond the Wall, and the men are too afraid to go, ’cause there’s too few of us left. I’m the one responsible for bringing in new recruits; so, I’ve come to ask for your help; for the Watch and your brother,” Yoren said and the happy and positive atmosphere from before was gone.


	13. The Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continuing support! Here's another chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

**Sansa**

They were all gathered in Father’s solar and Sansa could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she watched everyone pacing nervously around the room, while arguing about what should be done. Jon was the only one who was silent, sitting beside her and holding her hand in his own, occasionally drawing comforting circles with his thumb over her skin.

She was frightened, and she knew Jon could feel it. It was the reason he remained glued to her side, grounding her and solacing her, despite her mother and Arya’s often stares coming their way. She knew that if it wasn’t for the dire situation they were all in, they would make a deal out of it later; but now they both looked just as worried as she was to really care about her and Jon, while the rest kept talking of the best course of action, regarding her uncle and the Watch.

Everything had been going so wonderfully and she had been so happy just moments ago. Now she could only feel dread and despair. Their uncle had disappeared, and Father was now talking about leaving Winterfell with Jory and a few select others to go look for him. But what Yoren had said, the man who had brought the news from the Watch, had sounded so ominous. He’d said something was happening beyond the Wall, and Sansa was certain it wasn’t the wildlings he was referring to. He talked about finding an arm that belonged to somebody who had already died, and suddenly, Old Nan’s scary tales that Bran was always so fond of started running through her mind. Tales of the Long Night and the White Walkers. Creatures so evil and horrid that belonged only in nightmares. What if it was Uncle Benjen, the dead man missing an arm? What if Father went and never returned? They would then have to mourn them both. She desperately needed to know of her uncle’s whereabouts and of what had happened to him; but she wasn’t willing to lose her father over it, and at the realization she felt horrible for even thinking it. Both for Uncle Benjen and for Jon.

Although Jon already had a father, and it was a mother’s love he lacked and needed the most, Uncle Benjen had always been the most supportive in Jon’s life—even more so than Father—and when it came down to it, their uncle was pretty much a second paternal figure for Jon, instead of only an uncle. He had never held back from showing how much he favored Jon among all his nephews and nieces, not caring about Jon’s status or the way he was perceived by others because of it; something even Robb, who was Jon’s best friend, was guilty of. Robb and Jon, as long as she could remember, had both been very aware of their differences. They both knew who the heir was and who the one with not much to long for was; and a few times, for the sake of boys’ antagonistic nature, Robb had not refrained from rubbing it in; like her mother had never failed reminding it to either of them.

So, much like Jon, Uncle Benjen, albeit legitimate himself, had grown up knowing he was only the brother to the heir of Winterfell; first to their Uncle Brandon and then to Father. Because of it, he was probably the one person in their entire family and Winterfell, old enough to really understand Jon’s struggles. Even though her uncle was none of those things, and he had made a great name for himself, serving in the Watch, he understood the weight of being a bastard and an outsider. He had even surrounded himself with such people, choosing a life of solitude, brotherhood, and duty; never to have a family or a wife of his own. Which is what led Sansa to believe her uncle sometimes wished Jon was his. If Jon had been her uncle’s instead of Aunt Lyanna’s, things would have been so much easier for the both of them, and her uncle had seemed to know that, even if he used to believe Jon was her father’s.

Jon, for his part, had always looked up to him and had often talked of becoming a brother of the Night’s Watch like him. Uncle Benjen had made it look like a noble and honorable cause, and Sansa knew Jon probably thought that with him being a bastard and all, serving in the Watch could be the only way to achieve honor and glory. After meeting Yoren, however, and after the conversation that followed, which led to learning what had now become of the Watch, she knew it was not true, and she was glad Jon never had to become a Night’s Watch brother; not only because she got to be with him, but because of the life they lived. Yoren was nothing like Uncle Benjen. He was old and filthy, and although polite, it was obvious he was illiterate. Sansa could bet he even had lice. She couldn’t see anything honorable about living a life like that, and it made her feel sorry for her uncle. But that hadn’t always been the case.

Not too long ago, even Sansa herself had been glad at the prospect of Jon joining the Watch. In the songs, the Night’s Watch brothers were called the black knights of the Wall, and she remembered that despite the fact she and Jon hadn’t been close, she had been happy that in a way he too could become a knight, like their little brother, Bran, who often dreamed of serving in the kingsguard.

Even the first boy she had liked had been a brother of the Night’s Watch. Ser Waymar, son of ‘Bronze’ Yohn Royce of the Vale, had been a handsome youth, who had made her heart flutter for the very first time, when he had ridden north to take the black. Back then, she had even thought she was in love. But that had been before she knew what true love was. Before she and Jon had started falling for each other. It wasn’t that long ago and yet it seemed like a lifetime had passed since then. The life before Jon’s parentage was revealed, back when she had thought of him only as her half-brother, felt like it wasn’t her own anymore.

She was a completely different person now. She had changed so much even from when she had first agreed to _sacrifice_ herself and marry Jon. Although, it hadn’t been really a sacrifice. Back then, albeit wanting to keep Jon safe—which truly was the priority for her, whatever anyone else might have thought—she had also seen their marriage as an opportunity for her to rise; to finally become a princess like she had always dreamed of and a future queen. Jon had even accused her of that, seeing through her machination, because he couldn’t understand why she cared so much all of a sudden, when not too long ago their relationship had felt nonexistent. However, it hadn’t been nonexistent. It had just been weighed down by guilt because of her mother, and in a way she was glad for it. Because if she had thought of him all along as a true brother, like Arya did, she never would have been able to feel for him the way a wife feels for her husband.

But after becoming free to love him and after going through so much by his side, she didn’t care anymore about any of the things that had excited her at first. She didn’t want Jon to become a prince or a king. For her Jon was and always would be just Jon from now on. She only wanted everyone to be safe and for her family to accept them. She wanted for them to spend the rest of their lives in Winterfell, with Robb and her parents and the rest of the family, raising their children alongside them.

At the thought of children, she placed a protective hand on her belly. If her father went beyond the Wall and never returned, he’d never get to meet his grandchild. He’d never get to know that what she had blamed him for and what she had thought of as the worst night of her existence had blessed her with the greatest gift in any woman’s life. The joy she had felt that afternoon, when Maester Luwin had told her he was more than certain she was with child had been unimaginable.

She had never thought it could happen so soon and she had only wanted to appease Robb’s worry, when she had agreed to go see the Maester. And then Maester Luwin had started asking her about her moon blood and of the last time she had had it. Before the wedding, Sansa had only bled once—when she had flowered, during the days of her sickness—so it hadn’t been really in her mind; and now it seemed she wouldn’t get her moon blood for some time.

Suddenly, the prospect of losing Father made her realize how pointless all this anger she had been harboring towards him since the day of her and Jon’s wedding was. She was terrified. She was so scared of losing him that she wanted to run to him and climb on his lap, curl herself into a small ball and cry, like she used to do when she’d been a little girl. Earlier, she couldn’t wait to tell Jon about the babe and now all she could think of was the dangerous world she was about to bring it into.

“…My lord, you know I’d give my life for you without second thought, but it’s dangerous for you to go beyond the Wall with so few men. We should ask the other Houses for help. It hasn’t been that long since they’ve been here, drinking and eating all of our food, and this concerns them as much as it does us. I know finding Benjen is the priority, but if something is really going on beyond the Wall and the Night’s Watch brothers are unable to deal with on their own, then the whole North should try and help them,” Jory Cassel said, pulling Sansa from her thoughts and bringing her back to the present, where all the arguing continued.

“No. I don’t want to send an army up there. An army would attract too much attention. I don’t want to be the cause of war between the North and the Wildlings, when we don’t have the men to spare. Soon, we might have to fight in a different war, and Winterfell needs all its men for its protection. Fifteen men should be enough to arrange a search party for Benjen. I’m sure some of the Night’s Watch brothers will agree to accompany us as well. If the need arises, we will send more men and ask for help, but for now, when we go beyond the Wall, we need to be inconspicuous,” her father said back, and Sansa tightened her grip on Jon’s hand.

“I agree with you, my lord. We should not attract too much attention up there. The North doesn’t have the men to fight two wars; but perhaps you should consider not going yourself. If something happens and you are lost to us, there’s no guarantee that the other Northerners will stay true to their word. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Robb will be a wonderful leader and ruler when the time comes—I’ve trained him myself and I know the kind of man he is—but the other Houses swore their allegiance to you, and I don’t think they would think kindly of bowing down to a boy of sixteen, when they barely agreed to help _you_. A tested leader and warrior. This thing with Jon has made them suspicious and distrustful of House Stark, and I hate to say it, but I don’t trust their loyalty in these perilous times. Look what they made Jon and Sansa go through,” Ser Rodrik Cassel, Winterfell’s Master-at-Arms, stressed and Sansa felt a shiver go through her body at the mention of her name. It was common knowledge what had happened between her and Jon, but it was the first time she was hearing anyone talking about it so outwardly and loudly, in front of everyone. But then again, Ser Rodrik had never been a man to hold back his words, when the situation demanded of him to take a stand.

“So, what? You expect me to just sit here within the safety of my castle’s walls and not look for my brother? Let him perish? I’ve lost too many of my siblings already. I’m not going to lose another and do nothing about it,” her father argued, as everyone’s attempts to keep him from going seemed to fail.

“I promise you, my lord, we’ll do everything within our power to find him. We won’t give up. I’ll go myself. But you need to stay here for the sake of the rest of your family,” Ser Rodrik reassured him and insisted, but before her father had the chance to protest again, Sansa felt Jon’s hand leaving her own and heard him speak for the first time since they’d come to Father’s solar, as he got up.

“I’ll lead the search party to find Uncle Benjen,” he announced, his voice steady and determined, while everyone stared at him. At the sound of his words, Sansa thought her heart might leap out of her chest from fear.

“Jon, don’t be ridiculous. You _especially,_ out of everyone, aren’t going anywhere. You know there are people who want you dead out there,” her father said then, and like always it was cruel to hear that anyone would ever want to harm Jon.

“I’ve done nothing but hear you talk this whole time about risking your life for Uncle Benjen and us. How can you expect me to stay here, hidden away like a frightened little boy, when everyone else, even those who don’t want to, are risking their lives for me? You know what Uncle Benjen means to me. You know what you and the rest of this family mean to me. How can you expect me to ask for your protection, to ask these men to risk their lives for me, if I’m not willing to do the same? The only reason we’re in danger of having to fight a war with Robert Baratheon is me.”

“Jon—”

“No, Robb. Father, it’s been weeks since you told me the truth about my mother. I know you swore a vow to her to keep me safe, and you have; your vow is now fulfilled. I’m a grown man and it’s not up to you anymore to keep me hidden away and protect me. My life isn’t worth more than Jory’s or Ser Rodrik’s or any other Northerner’s. If you want the rest of the Houses to start respecting House Stark again; if you want them to truly know where my loyalties lie, it’s not a wedding and a bedding that will convince them. They’ll be convinced only when they see me fight alongside them. When they see me fight for the sake of the North. And what better way is there, to start proving them I’m a real Stark than go look for Uncle Benjen? The Starks have always taken an interest in the Night’s Watch, so whatever danger they’re facing now, even without thinking of Uncle Benjen, I want to help them.”

“So, you’re just going to leave your wife, and march to Castle Black, then?” Father asked exasperated, pointing towards Sansa, who brought her arms defensively in front of her belly. She was feeling paranoid that everyone would know her secret when they looked at her, before she met Maester Luwin’s eyes with her own and her fear intensified. She had asked the Maester not to say anything, wanting to surprise Jon first out of everyone. But now she wasn’t sure if she should anymore. Jon wanted to leave, and he hadn’t even thought of what that would do to her. He sounded like his honor was much more valuable than his own life, when for her he was like the sun a flower needed to survive.

 _Spoken like a true Stark_ , she thought bitterly about Jon. Suddenly it wasn’t a grandparent she needed to worry her child would never get to meet, but it was its own father. _Damn the Starks and their honor._

“Sansa will be safe here and she’ll be fine without me for a little while. I can’t say the same for Uncle Benjen, though.”

“Jon, you’re only sixteen. The lands beyond the Wall hold dangers you can’t comprehend.”

“Before I knew the truth, I wanted to join the Watch and you were going to let me. I know you were. You told me as much. How is this any different, especially when Uncle Benjen’s life is on the line? I was fourteen when I first told you I wanted to take the black. Boys even younger than that have joined the Watch before.”

“This is different. When they didn’t know who you were, nobody would have cared enough to try and hurt you. You would be just another bastard in their eyes. A bastard, however, who came from a respectful line. You were unimportant enough to not get attention to yourself and important enough that even if you did, they still wouldn’t dare challenge you. And I knew that if you went to the Watch, Benjen would be there to look out for you. They wouldn’t let you be a ranger until you were trained properly and old enough to go beyond the Wall. Benjen and I had already had an agreement when I told you I was considering letting you go. Now Benjen is gone and nothing is the same.”

“I won’t change my mind. You don’t have the right to stop me. I’m a grown man and if I decide to go, I will,” Jon said stubbornly and with finality in his voice and Sansa only now felt the tears staining her cheeks.

“You might be a grown man and I not your father, but I’m still your lord and you will obey what I tell you,” Father responded angrily.

“I’ll go with him,” Robb added all of a sudden, interrupting the argument, and when she looked at him it wasn’t Father or Jon he was looking at, but her. It was like he was telling her, _I’m doing this for you, little sister, don’t worry._

“Robb—” her Mother shouted then in protest.

“It will be safer, if we both go. Keep an eye on each other. And I too want to help find Uncle Benjen. Ser Rodrik is right, Father. You can’t go and we can’t just sit here and send our soldiers and expect them to risk their lives for our family. No one is going to challenge Jon with me by his side. I trust our men with my life and I know they’ll keep us both safe. But every moment we stand here, arguing about it is another moment Uncle Benjen remains lost,” Robb said, and Sansa saw Jory and Ser Rodrik nodding their heads both in agreement and pride of Robb, before she met Maester Luwin’s gaze again and hurriedly looked away.

She knew that if she spoke up now and told Jon about their child, out of obligation, he would stay back with her, and the Maester was looking at her like he expected her to do this very thing. But Sansa decided to show maturity instead, and put Jon’s needs above her own. Jon was a kind and honorable man, and she never wanted to try and tie him to her by adding to his guilt. He had the need to show to everyone who was doubting him the brave and respectful man he truly was, and even though it frightened her and pained her, she had to let him do it. Ever since Jon had learned the truth, he had done nothing but feel sorry for himself, and this was an opportunity for him to cease this kind of thinking—and, of course, she wanted Uncle Benjen saved just as much as he did. It saddened her to remember he had been the one to stand by Jon when they were wedded under the heart tree and yet she’d been so ready earlier to disregard him.

“Very well, then. If this is your final decision, I consent. I wasn’t that much older than you, when I had my first real fight. This will be a fine lesson for the both of you, but know this; an expedition beyond the Wall is nothing like sparring in the training yard. Ser Rodrik and Jory will lead our men. Not you. You will listen to your elders and you won’t do anything unnecessarily stupid. You will remain close to each other. Remember that _when the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives,_ ” her father said finally, after a few moments of silence. She could do nothing more now than pray to all the Gods, old and new, for Jon, Robb, and Uncle Benjen’s health and their safe return.

˜*˜

**Jon**

The next morning, the first snow of the season had begun to fall, as Jon stood in the courtyard, watching the others getting their horses ready for the journey to Castle Black. When he started heading towards his own horse, however, to make sure everything was alright, before he had to bid Sansa and the rest of the family farewell, he saw her hugging Robb near the castle’s main entrance and changed his course. The moment her eyes met his, a sad smile formed on her face and after giving Robb a last gentle pat on his back and a kiss on his cheek, she left her brother’s side and she too started walking towards Jon, until she met him halfway.

“Hey…” he muttered as he hugged her tightly to him and then gave a gentle but lasting kiss on her forehead. He knew they were being watched, but he didn’t really care. He wouldn’t get to see her for many days, maybe even weeks, and he needed to be as close to her as he could for as long as he still could, before they had to leave.

“Hey,” she said back, and tried to hide her sadness by smiling broader at him.

“So, are you ready? Will you be leaving soon?” she asked.

“Sansa, you understand why I have to do this, don’t you?” he asked her in return, instead of answering. The previous night she had been really supportive of him when they had been finally left alone, and had decided to sleep together in her chambers for the first time in weeks. They’d known no one would dare say anything, considering he would be leaving the next day, so he had taken full advantage of it and had held her in his arms all night and had kissed her until they had no more air left in their lungs. But now, as he watched her looking sadly at him, he didn’t know if she actually understood the reason behind his decision to leave. It hadn’t been his intention to hurt her, but he had to go, for Uncle Benjen. Maybe even for his own sanity.

“I do. I’m just worried. Promise me you and Robb will be careful. I couldn’t bear it, if anything happened to either of you,” she said, taking a step back to really look at him.

“I promise. We’ll have each other’s backs. Nothing will happen. We’ll find Uncle Benjen and we’ll be back before you know it,” he reassured her, before his eyes fell for the first time on the piece of garment she was holding.

“What’s this?” he asked her, pointing at it.

“It’s for you. It’s a cloak I’d started making during the days I was held up in my chambers because of my illness. I finally finished it a few days ago, but I never really got the chance to give it to you. It’s like the one Father has. Now with you going beyond the Wall, I thought I’d be appropriate to give it to you to keep you warm,” she replied and handed it over to him. Jon felt his heart swell with pride and love for his wife.

“Thank you, Sansa. I love it,” he said, and then remembered her cryptic words during the feast on her nameday.

“Is this the surprise you were talking to me about?” he asked, smiling at her. Sansa avoided his gaze for just a moment, but then smiled back and nodded.

“And what about this great gift I’ve given _you_?”

“ _You_ are the great gift. Being able to dance with you last night on my nameday made me really happy,” she answered and Jon pulled her in for a kiss, as soft snow kept falling around them.

“Well, I do have one more gift for you, however,” he said then, pulling back to look at her, before he reached inside the small side pocket of his doublet and afterwards presented her with her gift. He was glad to see her eyes shine when she looked at it. It was a necklace in the shape of a rose made out of silver with a few small blue stones of no real value to complete its decoration.

“I had it made for you for your nameday during my last visit at Winter town, so that every time you look at it, you’ll remember the day we first said _‘I love you.’_ It’s not much, but I thought you might like it.”

“It’s perfect,” she answered with tears ready to fall from her eyes, taking it from his hand and placing it around her neck. When he saw it on her, he knew he had made the right choice.

“I’m really happy you like it,” he said, taking her again in his arms, while letting her bury her face in his chest.

“I’ve kept the rose from that day, just so you know,” she whispered to him and he hugged her even tighter.

“I love you,” he told her and closed his eyes.

“I love you too,” he heard her say back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you begged me not to do this, however, it's really important for the development of the characters and the story I'm trying to tell. Also I feel like it wouldn't be like Jon, if he decided to sit back and relax while all of this was happening!  
> I'd like to apologize for not replying to your comments in the last chapter. It was mostly because of things you had already correctly guessed and also because I didn't want to give anything more away.  
> I'd really like to read your thoughts on this chapter as well! Thank you all for reading! XOXO


	14. The Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading and helping me reach 1000 kudos! You are the best! XOXO

**Sansa**

It had been close to two weeks since Jon and Robb’s departure, when Sansa woke up to a sick feeling to her stomach and ran to vomit inside her chamber pot. Up until now, she had managed to keep her condition a secret from her mother and the rest of the family, with everyone being busy worrying about her brother and Jon, but with every day that passed, she knew it was only a matter of time before they figured it out and she started to show. At least Maester Luwin had respected her wishes to keep it a secret, and had let her decide on her own when it would be the best time to make the reveal. But now that her morning sickness had already begun, she knew she would have to tell them soon, because there would be no other way to explain her symptoms.

“My lady?” Sansa heard her handmaid, Mina, speak. She had not heard her enter, being preoccupied with emptying her stomach inside her chamber pot, but the girl, a couple years older than her and closer to Jon and Robb’s age, had clearly been standing by her bed for a while now, staring between her and the pot on the floor.

“Are you alright?” she asked concerned, and Sansa didn’t know if it was just her being paranoid or the guilty look she threw the girl’s way, but she could already see the wheels turning inside her head, when suddenly Mina met her eyes shocked.

“I’ll get Lady Catelyn,” was the only thing she said, before she fled the room, leaving Sansa on her knees, cursing herself for not having the courage to tell her mother earlier and on her own terms.

“Sansa,” she heard her mother call her name, a few moments later, just after she was done washing her mouth and hands at the small basin she had in her chambers.

When she turned to look at her, her mother had an unreadable expression on her face.

“It’s nothing, Mother. I’m fine,” Sansa answered, before Lady Catelyn had the chance to ask her anything, as she moved to take her dress from the chair by the fireplace to get changed for the day.

“When were you going to tell me?” her mother simply asked. Sansa didn’t show any sign of hearing her question as she took the dress in her hands.

“Maester Luwin was with me, when Mina came to find me. He’s already confirmed it, so please at least have the courtesy to not lie and deny it.”

Sansa sighed deeply, before she sat at the chair, clutching the dress in her hands, after laying it in her lap.

“I wanted to tell you,” she said and paused.

“I really did. I just didn’t know how you would take it. And with Robb leaving, I didn’t want to worry you or upset you more.”

“You were trying to spare my feelings? Isn’t it a little late for that? You have already sided with him. I’ve seen you two together. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you two look at each other and behave around each other. I’ve been in love myself to recognize it when I see it in other people.”

“Then you can also understand why I’ve been so hesitant to tell you. I know how you feel about him, Mother,” Sansa answered, meeting her mother’s eyes.

“Was it that first night? Or have you lain with him again?” Lady Catelyn asked, and Sansa found herself blushing uncontrollably.

“I… I got with child that night, but I have done other… things with him since then,” she answered truthfully, while remembering the morning of her nameday, when he had made her peak for the first time.

“So, I guess this means you have forgiven him for exploiting you and using you for his advantage. For humiliating you.”

“Jon has never done anything like that. This marriage has been just as difficult for him as it has been for me. _I_ agreed to help him. None of this is his fault,” Sansa was quick to defend him.

“And now you are going to bear his child. At fourteen.”

“I’m a married woman. There is nothing wrong with that.”

“You are nothing but a child. And children are not supposed to bear other children. You know nothing of this world, Sansa. How cruel it can be. Tell me, what will happen to you after Robert Baratheon gets his hands on him? How can you even be certain that Jon Snow will return from this foolish mission he has gone to, dragging Robb along with him? What do you think will happen to you and your child, when people find out about this? Do you think that because it’s going to be named Stark, Robert Baratheon will spare its life? If it’s a son, his life will always be in danger, because just like Jon Snow, it will have a claim on the throne.”

“Jon is not interested in the throne and neither am I. We just want to live our lives together. I love him, Mother, and he loves me, and having a family with him is the best thing I could ever hope for.”

“What you and Jon want and what potential other people see in you are two completely different things. You are not a peasant, Sansa. There is power in both yours and Jon Snow’s blood. The mere threat of him and this child are enough for any king to want them dead,” her mother said and Sansa looked at her scared.

“You think I hate Jon Snow, and I admit that for a long while I _have_ hated him, and there are moments when I wish I could go back to those days of ignorance, back when I thought he was merely my husband’s bastard son, and the only thing he was a threat to was my children’s place in this castle, because of the affection your father had for him. But now it’s even worse than that. There is a reason why I’m still so angry with him, even if you feel like I shouldn’t anymore. He scares me. I don’t hate him, but he scares me. His very existence is a threat to my children’s _life_. He is a threat to _your_ life more than anyone else’s, because you are now linked to him. I understand your need to have a family, Sansa. But having Jon’s child endangers everything, and most of all you,” Lady Catelyn said, and Sansa found herself touching her belly protectively.

“This child is innocent. No one would dare harm it,” she told her mother stubbornly, as she felt tears coming to her eyes.

“Jon was innocent too. He was only a babe, and yet your father made sure he was kept hidden to protect him. He decided to dishonor himself and me in order to keep him a secret from his best friend. He couldn’t even trust his best friend. Do you know what that must be like? He couldn’t trust the man he grew up with as a brother more than anything else, the man he fought a war for, and helped win a throne for. And now look at them. Your father was right all along. Robert wants us all dead, because he can’t stand the thought of Jon’s existence.”

“This is different. This child is a Stark. It’s not a Targaryen.”

“I dare say that makes it even more dangerous, because it can be seen both as a threat and as hope. A lot of people blame the Targaryens for what they’ve done in this land. For all the wars and the destruction they’ve caused. Look at what the Northern lords did to you, because they thought they couldn’t trust Jon. But the Starks had always had the rumor of being honorable and good, and a lot of people have put their faith in them in the past. So, how would the realm see a child that has direct claim to the throne, but is also nothing like the vicious Targaryens with their dragons, and bears the Stark name? A family known to care for their people,” her mother said, and Sansa felt a tear roll down her cheek.

“I won’t let anyone harm my babe. I will protect it with my own life, if I have to,” she said and brought both her arms in front of her, creating a protective wall for her babe, suddenly feeling more scared than ever. Until this day, she had only thought of this child as a blessing, but now she knew that with that blessing came grave danger.

“Let us hope you won’t have to, then,” her mother muttered and then knelt in front of her, wiping the tears that had fallen from Sansa’s eyes.

“Do you think Jon and Robb will be alright? That they’ll come back to us, and bring Uncle Benjen back too?” Sansa asked her then, as her mother placed a hand on her knee and caressed her long auburn hair with the other, comforting her.

“We can only pray that they do. They all still have a lot to live for,” she answered and smiled sadly at her, adding a protective hand on her arm, while Sansa kept them both in front of her stomach.

“They do,” Sansa agreed returning the small smile. “Let us pray to both the Old Gods and the New for their safe return.”

“Yes. Let’s pray,” Lady Catelyn said back. It was the first time in a long while that Sansa felt this close to her mother, and she only hoped they never lost that connection ever again. Because the gods knew she had never needed her more than she did now.

˜*˜

**Jon**

“Open the gates,” Jon heard someone shout, meeting Robb’s eyes, as they stood in front of Castle Black’s gates on the backs of their horses. The ride to the castle had been a long and hard one, filled with scared thoughts about their uncle’s fate, as well as thoughts about Sansa and the rest of the family they were leaving behind, while admiring the size of the Wall the closer they got. But now that they were here, they could finally focus on their mission.

The moment the gates were open, Yoren, Ser Rodrik and Jory were the first to guide their horses inside, while he and Robb followed right behind them, along with the rest of their men. The place, although it was big, was old and looked somewhat like it was falling apart, and Jon couldn’t help but wonder what his life would have been like, if he had actually taken the black and had made this his new home and the men he could see around him his new brothers. He could feel their eyes follow them, as they stood scattered about the yard and on the balconies of some of the buildings. Eyes that belonged to old and young men—some of them boys even, not older than fourteen or fifteen—many of them bearded and others not. From their reaction alone, it was obvious they were not getting a lot of visitors and Jon could clearly see why. This place was a ruin in comparison to Winterfell.

“We’re coming from Winterfell. Lord Stark is sending a search party for his brother beyond the Wall. You’d better tell the Lord Commander. He’ll want to meet with them,” Yoren informed the three men who approached them, while they all dismounted their horses.

“And who should I say he’ll be meeting with?” one of the three men, a tall one with grey curly short hair, asked suspiciously. He seemed to be in charge.

“Ser Rodrik and Jory Cassel, and Lord Stark’s two elder sons,” Jory was the one to respond, introducing them. The man’s eyes travelled to him and Robb, distinguishing them from the rest of their men, who wore much simpler cloaks than the two of them. The two direwolves beside them, Ghost and Grey Wind, seemed to also give away their identity. It was a miracle that Jon had gotten Ghost to come with him and leave Lady. But it had felt almost as if the wolf had understood the danger Jon would be getting himself into, and with Sansa’s urging, had dutifully followed him to the Wall.

“May I ask who you might be?” Ser Rodrik asked next, gaining back the man’s attention.

“Ser Alliser Thorne, Master-at-Arms here at Castle Black. I’m responsible for training the new recruits,” the man answered, before Jon felt his eyes on him again.

“The men need rest before we can begin our mission. We brought our own food,” Ser Rodrik said and the man nodded.

“Show them to the hall,” he told the two other men beside him, and then turned back to them.

“The rest follow me,” he added, and Yoren, Ser Rodrik, Jory, Robb and himself followed the man to meet the Lord Commander, while he and Robb shared a look.

˜*˜

“This is the arm our rangers found,” Lord Commander Jeor Mormont said, as they all stood around the desk in his solar. Upon meeting him, Jon could not help but think of the man’s sister who had been placed as a witness for his and Sansa’s bedding.

“What’s so unique about a piece of a dead man’s arm? Why are you still keeping it here?” Robb asked then, as all their eyes were glued to the grayish flesh placed on a piece of cloth on top of the table.

“To study it of course,” came an old man’s voice. Jon had not paid any attention to him until then.

“Study it for what?” he asked.

“For the odd fact that although it is a piece of a dead man, dead flesh itself, it does not appear to rot or to smell,” the old man answered.

“How is that even possible?” Robb was the next one to speak.

“We do not know, but we hope Maester Aemon will be able to tell us more in the future,” Lord Commander Mormont replied, pointing towards the old man sitting by the hearth.

“Speaking of the future, how many of your men can we expect to accompany us beyond the Wall?” Ser Rodrik asked.

“We don’t have the men to waste in pointless missions. We’ve already sent a few of our men beyond the Wall and they came back with this,” Lord Mormont said, pointing towards the arm on the table.

“We asked Yoren to bring in recruits to help us defend ourselves better. Not take on missions that will get even more of us killed. Benjen was a good friend and a brother to us, but we can’t risk any more of our men, just for him.”

“So, we should expect no men for when we leave on the morrow?” Jory asked irritated.

“I’d suggest you wait a few days. There is a storm coming and it would make your lives really difficult if it caught you while you’re travelling north of the Wall. Benjen would not have wanted any harm to come to his nephews because of him.”

“You talk as if he’s already dead,” Jon accused him, angrily.

“For all we know he is,” Lord Mormont answered, looking at him for perhaps the first time.

“You must be Jon. Benjen has told me a lot about you. He had a lot of love for you,” he added. It didn’t make Jon glare at him any less.

“ _Jon_? As in _‘Jon Snow’_?” Ser Alliser Thorne spoke. Jon had forgotten he was still in the room.

“You’re Rhaegar Targaryen’s bastard,” the man concluded, making Jon even angrier than before.

“Mind your tone with my brother,” Robb seethed.

“Your brother? The way I heard it, he’s your bastard cousin fucking your sister, whom he grew up thinking as his own,” Thorne retorted and Ser Rodrik and Jory barely held Robb and himself back from attacking him.

“Ser Alliser, I will not tolerate this behavior. These men are our guests. I will not have you insult them,” Lord Mormont intervened.

“I did not insult anyone. I merely spoke the truth. If it wasn’t for this boy’s whore of a mother seducing him, Rhaegar Targaryen would be King now instead of Robert Baratheon, and I wouldn’t be stuck here, freezing my arse off on the Wall for the rest of my life,” Thorne said and this time the rest of the men could not hold Jon back from punching him in the face, before they actually managed to restrain him.

“Remove yourself from this room right now,” Jeor Mormont ordered, and Thorne holding his bloodied nose with his hand and one last glare towards Jon proceeded to leave, while Jon was still held back by the rest of them. He had only known him for a few moments and he already hated him.

“I’ll have rooms prepared for you and your men. Think about what I’ve told you, and consider waiting for a few days before you go. The weather north of the Wall is always unpredictable, so you should at least wait for when it’s safest to travel.”

“Thank you, Lord Commander, for your advice. We will think on it tonight and decide on the morrow,” Ser Rodrik said and then led all of them out of the room and back to find the rest of their men.

_When we get outside, Thorne should better be hiding_ , Jon kept thinking furiously, because if his eye caught that man again, he was going to do a lot more than just punch him in the face and give him a bloody nose. Jon already hated everything here and missed Sansa and Winterfell terribly, and that made him realize he would have made the biggest mistake in his life, if he had chosen to join the Night’s Watch. In fact, he had never been happier than he was now for the revelation of his parentage that led him to the life he lived. The revelation that allowed him to marry Sansa. Whatever that man said, he was wrong. Sansa was the light of his life and he would never be embarrassed again for being her husband.

_Oh, it would be so sweet to have her here with me,_ he thought longingly, and then followed the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know of your thoughts! :)


	15. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

**Sansa**

Sansa knocked on the door of her father’s solar, bracing herself for their inevitable talk, when—to her surprise—the door was suddenly opened by her mother. Her lord father was inside, sitting behind his desk.

“Come, Sansa,” Lady Catelyn bid her inside with a face that gave nothing away, moving aside for her to pass, as Sansa instinctively placed her hands on her belly. With her head held high, trying her best to look courageous, she then walked inside the room, before she heard the door shut behind her and looked at her father.

Lord Eddard Stark had never looked more miserable and troubled before in his life. His eyes seemed tired with dark circles underneath them, while deep lines creased his forehead. It seemed as if he had aged twenty years in a matter of weeks, but with Sansa keeping her distance from him, she was only now able to notice the changes.

“Father? You called for me? Is something wrong? Is Jon—?”

“Both Jon and Robb are fine. I received a raven from Castle Black earlier. They arrived a few days ago, but the weather hasn’t allowed them to travel north yet. They’re still there or at least they were when they sent this raven. You don’t need to worry about them for now,” he said and paused.

“But this is not why I called you. Though, I assume you knew this already,” her father said, staring inside her eyes. Before long Sansa had to look away, hugging herself tighter, as she heard a sigh coming from him.

“Are you alright? Is the babe alright?” her father asked then.

“We’re both healthy, yes,” Sansa answered. It had been days since her mother had discovered her condition, but she had kept quiet, just like her handmaiden, whom Lady Catelyn had sworn to secrecy. However, Sansa had been aware that it was only a matter of time before her father knew and she had had no doubt that he did, when he had asked for her. Just like her, Ned had been avoiding her since the wedding.

“Your mother tells me you’re pleased that you’re with child. Is this true?” he asked and he sounded hopeful, although he looked worried.

“It is. The Gods have blessed my first union with Jon, so it was not all in vain,” she told him and she couldn’t hold back the bitterness in her voice. Although Sansa had forgiven him long ago and was grateful that the bedding had brought her closer to Jon and had given them their child, she still felt upset with him for not even apologizing to her for the way he had handled things the night of the wedding. Her mother did not try to intervene. It was no secret that she had been fighting with Ned. 

“Sansa… there are no words… I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am. I should never have allowed the bedding. I should never have let you suffer like that. I know you must hate me, but—”

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you, Father. I’m just disappointed. And so is Jon.”

Ned looked both relieved and pained by her words. “I understand. I wronged both of you. I brought shame on both my children and I can never take it back. I’m not even going to ask for your forgiveness, because I know I don’t deserve it. I will have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life,” he said and the look on her father’s face broke Sansa’s heart.

“No, you won’t. I’ve felt hurt and shamed too… but I cannot hold it against you, when I know the reason you let it happen. When I know how desperate you were for this to work for the sake of our family, for Jon. I was there. I remember how they pressured you. I myself agreed to go through with it and so did Jon. You asked us both and we agreed. You didn’t force us. In the end it was our decision. I know that if I had said no, you would have stopped it, consequences be damned. I know you tried after… even though we had both agreed. Theon told me what happened after I was led to my chambers.”

“Theon?” her father asked surprised.

“He told me you tried to use Jon’s drunkenness as an excuse, but Jon refused.”

“Theon should have kept his mouth shut. It was not Jon’s fault. I should have never put him in that spot. He felt too embarrassed in a room full of men to agree with me. Please, don’t blame him.”

“I don’t. I never did. And I don’t blame you either. Not anymore. I did… at first. When the anger and the humiliation were still fresh on my mind, but I cannot blame you any longer. That would make me a hypocrite. I cannot hold against you the thing that brought me everything I ever wished for. A man to love and a family. Jon and I love each other, Father, and the thought of our child does not make me simply pleased. I’ve never felt happier in my life. Jon is all I could ever wish for to have in a husband and the thought of holding our babe in my arms fills my heart with unbelievable happiness,” Sansa said and smiled at her father, only now realizing that there were tears running down her face. In a moment Ned Stark was out of his seat and he was gathering her in his arms.

“My precious girl,” he mumbled in her hair, as he held her tightly against him. His protective arms around her body were making her feel like a little girl again, desperately clutching at him in fear after a nightmare, and all of a sudden she was feeling the need to confess everything that was keeping her up at night.

“I’m scared, Father. For Jon and for Robb. What if they don’t come back? What if Jon never meets his child? What if Uncle Ben is already dead?” she cried, and her tears wetted his jerkin.

“Don’t be afraid, my love. They will all come back. I promise. Jon will be here for when your child is born. He won’t miss it,” he reassured her, but there was no way for him to know that. It was an empty promise. One that he could not keep.

“I should have told him. I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I tell him? Now he’s gone on a dangerous mission and he doesn’t even know. He could die and never know about his child,” Sansa cried harder.

“Shhh… don’t think like that. Ser Rodrik and Jory won’t let anything happen to him, and Jon and Robb will be watching each other’s back and keep each other safe,” her father told her and Sansa moved back to look at him, a thought just occurring to her.

“You said they’re still at Castle Black. Perhaps I could send him a raven. Tell him about our child,” she said suddenly excited.

“Sansa, no. We’ve talked about this. It’s too dangerous for people outside our castle to know about your child. You’d only be putting it at risk. Anyone could intercept that message. People who could warn Robert,” her mother argued. Sansa had forgotten that she was still in the room.

“Your mother is right, Sansa. It’s not safe for many people to know about this. You will have to wait for Jon to come back and surprise him. Since you decided not to tell him before he left, you don’t have a choice now but to wait,” he reasoned with her, and although she knew he was right, it didn’t make her feel any less miserable.

“I understand,” she whispered in defeat, before Ned hugged her again protectively. She had missed his arms around her. She had missed feeling this safe. Jon had been the only one to make her feel safe lately, but now Jon was gone.

 _Please Gods, bring him back to me. Let him meet our child. Don’t let him die without knowing it,_ Sansa prayed, resting her head on her father’s chest, as her mother came to hug her as well from behind.

Standing there between them reminded her of the times when she had been little, and she had climbed between them in their bed during the stormy nights, terrified by the sound of the thunders. But in her mind, it wasn’t her climbing onto the bed anymore. It was a little boy with Jon’s hair and kind brown eyes asking for their protection, while she and Jon lay on their sides, looking at him adoringly as he too lay between them, the image making hope blossom in her heart. At that moment, she knew that she would get to live it. She had to. Jon had to come back to her and he would, and the thought of them together again with their child brought a smile on her face.

˜*˜

**Jon**

Jon was watching Alliser Thorne training the new recruits in Castle Black’s yard, casually leaning against the wooden railing of the balcony, when he felt Robb’s presence beside him.

“Are you alright?” his brother asked him, mirroring his posture.

“I’m fine. Just irritated. It’s been days. Why can’t we leave already? I just want to go find Uncle Benjen,” he grumbled.

“Jory and Ser Rodrik agreed with Mormont that it’s too dangerous for us to go now. We need to let the storm pass before we can move,” Robb reasoned with him.

“And since when do we take orders from Jory?”

“Since Father put him and Ser Rodrik in charge. You remember that, don’t you? That Father told us that we were to obey their orders? They’re in charge of this expedition and there’s nothing we can do about it. Besides, I agree with them. We don’t know what we’re going to find out there. We should at least make sure the weather is on our side.”

“Whatever,” Jon said and kept watching the recruits training below, when Thorne locked eyes with him. Robb didn’t seem to miss the tension between the two. Although they had kept their distance ever since that first day’s incident, they still occasionally exchanged hateful glances with each other.

“What is this really about? Is this about him?” he asked him, motioning with a tilt of his head towards the Master-at-Arms.

“No. He’s a prick, but I can handle him. It’s not like it’s the first time someone has mocked me for being a bastard.”

“You’re not a bastard, so whatever he thinks does not matter. What he said about Sansa and your mother—”

“Please don’t—”

“All I’m trying to say is that it shouldn’t bother you. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Robb said, before Jon sighed deeply, tightening his hold on the railing.

“Doesn’t he, though? My mother _did_ seduce a married man and then had a child with him. Thorne was in a way right about what he said, even though he was harsh.”

“She didn’t seduce him. They just fell in love and then they married. They didn’t mean to cause what followed and it wasn’t just Aunt Lyanna who was at fault. Don’t let him get into your head and poison your thoughts of your mother.”

“And what about what he said about Sansa? Don’t you agree with him?” Jon asked, turning his face towards Robb to watch him closely.

“Of course not!” his brother answered and sounded offended.

“Really? Because not too long ago you were thinking the same way and you wanted to murder me,” Jon challenged him, thinking of all the times Robb had glared at him during sparring and all the unnecessary bruises he had given him.

“That’s not true and you know it. It was just difficult for me to adjust to the idea. Jon, I know the kind of man you are, and I know that you’ll take care of her. In the end, I’m glad you two are together and that you have found love in each other,” Robb told him, and when he did, Jon let the mask of pretense finally slip from his face, for a moment becoming vulnerable enough to confess his feelings.

“I miss her. I know it’s only been a few weeks, but I miss her terribly,” he admitted, closing his eyes in shame. He was trying to be strong and not let Robb know the agonizing pain he was feeling from being parted from Sansa, but he just couldn’t pretend anymore. The old him would have just brooded in silence and would not have told anyone, but the new him, this side of him that had fallen head over heels for Sansa, could not hold back from expressing his feelings anymore. He needed to mope and to whine and Robb would just have to endure it.

“I’m sure she misses you too, but if you want to go back to her in one piece, you need to be careful and not make hasty decisions. Let Jory and Ser Rodrik decide what’s right. They have more experience and clearer heads than we do.”

“Aye, you’re right. I just can’t help but feel like we’re wasting our time here, and every day that passes is another one Uncle Benjen is missing and another one I spend away from Sansa,” Jon said, but before Robb could react and say anything in return, Alliser Thorne’s voice caught their attention from the yard below them, and they both turned their heads in time to see Sam, one of the new recruits approach the rest. Although they were always calling him mocking names and the two of them had not yet interacted, Jon had caught the boy’s name.

He was not much older than him and Robb and as he walked clumsily on uncoordinated feet, his face pale with fear, Jon noticed how different he looked from the others. Sure, there was the obvious difference—he was fat, and the armor he was given barely fit him—but there was also something else about him. Sam was highborn and if Jon had to guess, he’d say he had never had to defend himself before in his life, and unfortunately, after the boy was given a sword with a blunt edge and a shield, and Thorne ordered one of the others to attack him, Jon’s suspicions were confirmed. Where the others before had seemed to lack any serious skills in sword fighting, this boy was not only tremendously unskilled, but he was also a coward, and soon he found himself on the ground, face down, while he cried out for mercy, causing the others to start laughing around him and make fun of him. In response, the feeling of secondhand embarrassment and pity made Jon move, and before he knew what he was doing, he was heading for the stairs.

“Jon!” he barely heard Robb calling after him, and although he knew it wasn’t his place to interfere, he was determined to put a stop to this poor boy’s torture.

“He yielded. Stop this right now,” Jon shouted, glaring at Thorne, who never stopped yelling orders to attack Sam—whom the Master-at-Arms was calling _Lady Piggy_ —while he was still on the ground, begging for mercy.

The moment Jon spoke all voices and laughter died down around him, and Thorne turned to him with eyes full of contempt.

“This is Castle Black. You’re not in Winterfell anymore, Lord Snow. You don’t get to order us around here. You’re only a guest and soon you’ll be leaving. You’re not one of us, so I suggest you mind your own business. I am Master-at-Arms and I will train the recruits the way I see fit. I will not have a bastard boy like yourself instruct me on how to train my men,” Thorne mocked him, a self-satisfied grin on his face. Before he could reply, Jon felt Robb’s hand on his shoulder, trying to keep him calm, but he ignored him.

“It is Lord Stark to you. I’m not a Snow, and you _will_ have it from me. We might not be in Winterfell, but Castle Black is still in the North. So, unless you want me to make a formal complaint to your Lord Commander, you will stop this immediately,” Jon said boldly, only to receive another smirk from Thorne.

“The Night’s Watch doesn’t fall under anyone’s jurisdiction. As for the Starks, they might rule the North, but last time I heard, Robert Baratheon was king of the Seven Kingdoms. The Starks are only wardens of the North, and interestingly enough King Robert is said to now call the Starks traitors.”

“And since when do you care about Robert Baratheon? You’ve made it very clear that you hate him.”

“That doesn’t make him any less the King, and I’ve heard another interesting story,” Thorne said and paused.

“You want to hear it? No?” he asked him mockingly. Jon glared at him, and he could feel Robb doing the same next to him.

“Oh, I’ll tell you anyway,” he continued.

“We all heard why he thinks the Starks to be traitors. It’s because of you. You might call yourself a Stark all you want, but the truth is you’re a Targaryen bastard, and sooner or later Robert Baratheon will have your head on a spike,” Thorne said, his words falling from his lips like venom, while putting emphasis on the word _bastard_. Jon felt Robb’s hand again on his shoulder, holding him back.

“He’s not worth it,” his brother whispered to him, but Jon didn’t want to listen. He was full of rage and was about to attack him, when a man shouted from one of the balconies, causing everyone to turn and look. It was the Maester they all had met the first day they had come to Castle Black, and he was now telling Thorne Mormont was asking for him, while his blind eyes stared at nothing. His name was Aemon, and besides being the Maester of Castle Black, he was also the first Targaryen Jon had ever laid eyes on. Until Ser Rodrik had told him, he hadn’t realized the implication of the name Aemon when he had heard it, but as he looked at him now all he could think was that this old man was all that was left from his real father’s side of the family, besides a girl, not older than him, half a world away in Essos. His father’s sister, as Ned had informed him. He had had an uncle too, but the news of his death had recently reached the shores of Westeros.

“We’ll talk later, Lord Snow,” Thorne told him mockingly before he left, giving him one last hateful glance.

“Thank you,” he heard someone say then, just as Thorne disappeared inside one of the buildings. Jon had been too preoccupied glaring at Ser Alliser’s back to notice who had spoken. When he turned around, however, Sam was looking at him expectantly.

“Thank you for defending me. You didn’t have to do that. I’m Sam, by the way,” the boy said and offered him his hand for a handshake.

“I know who you are. I’m Jon, and you don’t have to thank me. I did nothing important,” Jon replied, shaking his hand.

“This is my brother Robb,” Jon said next and Robb greeted him also. The rest of the recruits had gone soon after Thorne, but the two other boys who had stayed behind with the three of them gave their names as well.

Grenn and Pypar were two of the few who had not made fun of Sam earlier and Grenn had been the one who had taken mercy on him and had stopped his attack despite Ser Alliser’s commands. So, after the introductions were over, Grenn turned to Sam. “Why didn’t you defend yourself? I wasn’t even hitting you and you froze on the ground doing nothing. I didn’t mean to scare you. We were just training. The swords aren’t even sharp.”

“I wanted to… I really did… but I couldn’t. I’m afraid I’m a coward. My father always said so and he was right.”

“What are you doing in the Night’s Watch then?” Robb was the one to ask him next. Sam’s presence here was something puzzling to all of them.

“I guess there was no other place left for me to go to,” Sam answered and Jon knew he was holding something back. There was more to his story than what he was telling them, but he wasn’t going to pressure him in front of everyone. He could see in his eyes that he didn’t want them to know.

“But you’re highborn, aren’t you? What is your surname?” Robb insisted, before Jon had the chance to stop him. Robb never knew when to stop talking.

“My name is Samwell Tarly. My House serve as bannermen to House Tyrell of Highgarden,” Sam answered.

“Is it true? What they say? Are the Tyrells fighting beside the Baratheons in the war against the Lannisters?” Robb asked yet again.

“Robb—” Jon protested this time. Sam looked at him curiously and then at Robb, before he answered.

“You want to know if they’ll march against your house as well, after the Lannisters are defeated. You’re a Stark and you are the Targaryen heir everyone’s been talking about,” Sam said. It wasn’t a question. He had heard like the rest of them Thorne’s mocking words earlier. He knew it was him.

“I’m not anyone’s heir. I’m Jon and that’s all you need to know.”

“My father fought on Prince Rhaegar’s side during the rebellion. I can’t imagine what he’d say if he saw me talking to you now. He always admired the dragons,” Sam told him with an odd expression on his face that Jon didn’t know how to interpret.

“So did the Tyrells and now they’re both fighting for Robert Baratheon. A man who’s trying to murder my brother, the son of the Prince they had originally sworn their allegiance to. I can’t say I admire your father’s loyalty very much,” Robb retorted.

“Well, my father _is_ loyal—to the Tyrells. They’re the ones who joined the fight on the King’s side. They couldn’t exactly take the Lannister’s side. To many it seemed like the lesser of two evils. But perhaps my father isn’t the best example to bring, when you think of loyalty and honor. To him honor is everything, even at the expense of others,” Sam said and he sounded bitter. Jon was curious to know what that was about. Was his father the reason he had come here? Even though it was obvious he had no place in the Night’s Watch? Earlier he had said his father had always called him a coward. He guessed from Sam’s father’s perspective it was difficult to find any honor in a coward. He could never imagine Ned telling him something like that, however, even though he was the most honorable man he knew. Despite his flaws, apart from Lady Catelyn, his family always loved him unconditionally.

“They were different times, different wars. House Stark helped King Robert win his crown more than anyone else from what I’ve studied, and now the Starks and the Baratheons are at each other’s throats,” Sam commented, bringing Jon back to the present. Jon stopped Robb before he could speak.

Besides, what could his brother say? That it had all been a mistake? A misunderstanding? Both sides had wronged each other, it was true, but it all came down to his parents’ crime. They had loved each other and because of their love thousands had lost their lives. His grandfather and uncle had died by the hands of his other grandfather, all because of them. His father’s family and what would have been his half-siblings had gotten butchered during the sacking of King’s Landing, again because of them. His father’s siblings had lived all their lives running and hiding in permanent exile in Essos, until one of them had died, still because of them. All of the Seven Kingdoms had immersed in war and decay, and it had all been because of their love.

Robb could believe whatever he wanted to believe, but it wasn’t Thorne the one making him think badly of his mother and real father. It was all their doing. Their actions and arrogance shamed him, and there was nothing honorable about their union, even though they were married, at least in his eyes. Honor and duty were difficult. It wasn’t always pleasant to do the honorable thing and it usually came at a price. A price he and Sansa had paid heavily, trying to do the right thing for their family. Love had come afterwards. With his parents it had been the opposite and their love had had an impact on everyone, and most of all on his family, which was still paying the price.

“But I guess it doesn’t really matter. I, for one, have nothing to do with these fights anymore. Not that I ever did,” Sam smiled and paused, becoming serious again.

“I’ve come to take the black and find a new family in my new brothers,” he said, and Jon saw Grenn and Pyp—as he liked to be called—nodding in agreement. He didn’t know their background, although he was certain it was very different from Sam’s, but it was obvious they too wanted to find a place to belong and a family. Not too long ago, Jon himself was flirting with the idea of coming here, but now everything was different. Sansa had more than filled that need. She was his entire world now, but he could still relate, since he had felt like an outsider for years.

“Well, then if you’re all serious about this, you’d better learn how to fight, because that was just embarrassing,” Jon said seriously, but then burst out laughing, making the rest of them laugh as well.

“Robb and I could teach you, while we’re here. We’ve been taught by the best. Thorne has nothing on him,” he told them and Robb agreed next to him. At least they’d have something to pass the time while they were waiting here.

“I’m not going to get any better, you know,” Sam protested.

“Well, at least you can’t get any worse,” Robb said then and everyone started laughing again. Jon hadn’t laughed in days, not since they had left Winterfell, and at the realization the memory of Sansa’s sweet laughter entered his mind. He could only hope that he would see her laugh again soon and the thought of it warmed his heart.


End file.
